1 


'Contemporary  Dramatists  Series 


JWaxim  #orfei 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT  OF 


Kenneth  I.Iaosowan 


C3' 


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SUBMERGED 


Contemporary  Dramatists  Series 

HUGO  VON  HOFMANNSTHAL 

Death  and  the  Fool 

JOSE  ECHEGARAY 
The  Great  Galeoto 

AUGUST  STRINDBERG 

Advent 

MAXIM  GORKI 

Submerged 

Uniform  binding,  i2mo.,  antique  boards 
Each  75c.  net,  85c.  postpaid 


Other  Volumes  in  Preparation 


RICHARD    G.    BADGER 
PUBLISHER,    BOSTON 


Contemporary  Dramatists  Series 

SUBMERGED 

SCENES   FROM   RUSSIAN 
LIFE      IN      FOUR     ACTS 

MAXIM  GORKI 

TRANSLATED  FROM   THE  RUSSIAN 
BY  EDWIN  HOPKINS 


BOSTON:   RICHARD  G.  BADGER 

TORONTO:      THE    COPP    CLARK    CO.,    LIMITED 


Copyright,  1915,  by  Richard  G.  Badger 


All   Rights  Reserved 


Thb  Gokham  Pmbb,  Boston,  U.  S.  A. 


"^> 


INTRODUCTION 

SPRUNG  out  of  darkness  and  misery,  en- 
joying for  a  brief  moment  the  thrill  of  fame 
and  power,  and  then  plunged  once  more 
into  misery  and  disease, — this  has  been  the 
career  of  Gorki,  "the  bitter  voice  of  Russia." 

Alexei  Maximovitch  Pyeshkov  was  born  March 
26th,  1869,  at  Nijny-Novgorod.  His  grandfather 
had  been  a  Lieutenant  under  Nicholas  I  until  his 
degradation  for  cruelty  to  his  soldiers.  Orphaned  at 
nine  through  an  epidemic  of  cholera  which  he  him- 
self, fortunately  or  unfortunately  survived,  Gorki 
was  apprenticed  to  a  shoemaker  who  dismissed  him 
after  a  trial  of  eight  weeks.  Having  been  employed 
successively  as  draughtsman,  assistant  dauber  of 
holy  images  and  second-hand  cook  on  a  Volga  steam- 
er, he  found  all  these  distasteful  to  him.  As  an 
avocation  to  his  dishwashing,  he  perused  "The 
Tempest"  and  "A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream," 
copies  of  which  he  found  on  the  ship.  Determined 
to  go  to  the  university  he  hastened  to  Kazan,  where 
like  Jude,  the  Obscure,  he  found  that  education 
actually  had  to  be  paid  for.  This  was  perhaps  the 
greatest  disappointment  of  his  life. 

After  years  of  cursing  and  hunger  and  tramping 

5 


572886 


6  INTRODUCTION 

and  at  least  one  almost  successful  attempt  at  suicide, 
Gorki  suddenly  discovered  one  day  that  the  tran- 
scription of  his  soul's  tragedy  on  paper  made  inter- 
esting reading.  This  discovery  brought  him  fame 
and  wealth.  Unfortunately,  however,  he  had  an 
ideal.  This  was,  to  picture,  in  all  its  horrible  real- 
ity, the  tattered  soul  of  the  vagabond,  in  which  yet 
flickered,  though  beyond  all  hope  of  revival,  a  faint 
spark  of  divinity.  This  was  an  unpardonable  sin  in 
the  eyes  of  Russian  officialdom.  The  persecution 
that  began  then  has  continued  to  the  present  day,  and 
now  this  once  mighty  father  of  the  fatherless  is  dy- 
ing, hounded  and  a  prey  to  disease,  hidden  in  some 
obscure  hamlet  where  even  his  friends  are  unable 
to  find  him. 

The  object  of  literature  in  the  words  of  Gorki  is 
"to  aid  man  to  understand  himself,  to  rouse  in  him 
faith  in  himself,  to  kindle  the  soul  in  his  existence  by 
infusing  into  it  the  holy  spirit  of  beauty."  Gorki  has 
made  it  the  mission  of  his  unbeautiful  life  to  reveal 
to  mankind  the  beauty  that  lurks  within  the  heart 
of  the  submerged  dregs  of  humanity.  His  charac- 
ters, the  beggar,  the  outcast,  the  thief,  those  un- 
fortunate beings  whose  feeble  shoulders  have  to 
support  the  weight  of  our  civilization,  are  gathered 
together  by  this  tremendous  genius  and  flung  as  a 
bitter  protest  against  our  self-complacent  respecta- 
bility. 


INTRODUCTION  7 

Gorki's  dramas  would  hardly  pass  muster  in  the 
class-room,  where  play-making  is  taught  to  resemble 
a  prize-fight,  with  a  solar-plexus  jolt  in  the  second 
round  and  a  knockout  blow  in  the  third.  But  these 
plays  pass  the  test  of  all  supreme  art ;  they  are  slices 
of  life, — the  life  of  those  who  live  in  the  darkness, 
"who  have  come  from  the  northmost  ground  of  life 
where  is  naught  but  smudge  and  murk."  He  is  the 
sole  witness  to  their  suffering. 

In  "Submerged"  {Nadnye,  which  literally  means 
At  the  Bottom)  Gorki  pictures  the  ragged  fringes 
of  humanity,  whom  society  considers  as  superfluous, 
— men  and  women  who  are  regarded  as  no  more  im- 
portant than  the  vermin  that  infest  their  habita- 
tions. The  scene  depicted  in  the  first  act  is  not  un- 
like that  of  "The  Passing  of  the  Third  Floor  Back." 
In  "Submerged,"  however,  the  brutal  frankness  of 
the  picture  is  the  more  terrible,  as  it  is  tremendously 
more  realistic  than  the  similar  scene  in  Jerome  K. 
Jerome's  play.  In  both  dramas  there  enters  a  spirit 
who  represents  Light,  trying  to  awaken  the  dormant 
beauty  in  the  soul  of  each  of  these  derelicts.  But 
where  the  English  author,  powerful  in  his  way, 
brings  about  a  general  reformation  of  character 
that  would  delight  a  class  of  Sunday  School  chil- 
dren, Gorki,  more  faithful  to  the  tragic  reality  of 
life,  shows  us  how  all  these  people  one  after  anoth- 
er, although  making  an  effort  to  rise  above  the  sur- 


8  INTRODUCTION 

face,  and  to  give  air  and  sunlight  to  the  germ  of 
purity  within  their  hearts,  are  forced  down  by  socie- 
ty, to  remain  forever  amid  the  submerged  dregs  of 
mankind. 

This  play  is  typical  of  Gorki's  entire  literary  ac- 
tivity, especially  in  the  field  of  the  drama.* 

Just  as  Dickens  gave  voice  to  the  aspirations  of 
the  toilers,  those  living  in  the  lowermost  stratum  of 
society,  so  Gorki  reveals  to  us  the  hopeless  souls  of 
the  outcasts  of  society,  those  who  do  not  even  pos- 
sess the  last  place  upon  the  human  scroll.  But  per- 
haps, as  Gorki  saw  with  his  prophetic  eye,  in  the 
final  reckoning,  in  the  revealing  of  human  worth, 
these  submerged  orphans  of  human  society  shall  be 
gathered  and  placed  nearest  to  the  heart  of  God. 

Henry  T.  Schnittkind. 


*Four  of  his  dramas,  "Children  of  the  Sun,"  "The 
Smug  Citizen,"  "A  Night's  Lodging,"  here  pubHshed 
under  its  more  appropriate  title  of  "Submerged,"  and 
"Summer  Folk"  have  been  published  in  Poet  Lore. 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS 

(In  the  order  in  which  they  first  speak  in  the  play.) 

A  Baron,  32  years  old. 

KvASCHNYA,  a  market  luoman,  about  40. 

BuBNOFF,  a  capmaker,  45. 

Kleshtsch,  Andrew  Mitritch,  locksmith,  40. 

Nastiah,  24. 

Anna,  wife  of  Kleshtsch,  30. 

Sahtin,  40. 

An  Actor,  40. 

KosTiLioFF,  Michael  Ivanowitch,  lodging-house 

keeper,  54. 
Pepel,  Waska,  28. 
Natasha,  sister  of  Wassilissa,  20. 
LuKA,  a  pilgrim,  60. 
Alyoschka,  a  shoemaker,  20. 
Wassilissa  Karpovna,  wife  of  Kostilioff,  26. 
Medviedeff,  uncle  of  Wassilissa,  policeman,  50. 
A  Tartar,  40,  a  porter. 
Krivoi  Zoba,  40,  a  porter. 

Several   nameless   tramps,   supernumeraries. 


SUBMERGED 

ACT  I 

A  basement-room  resembling  a  cavern.  The  mas- 
sive, vaulted  stone  ceiling  is  blackened  with  smoke, 
its  rough  plaster  in  places  broken  off.  The  light  falls 
inwardly  from  above,  through  a  square  window  on 
the  left  (of  one  facing  the  footlights).  The  left 
corner,  Pepel's  quarter,  is  separated  from  the  rest 
of  the  room  by  thin  partitions,  against  which,  ex- 
tending from  beneath  the  window  towards  C.  is 
Bubnoff's  bunk. 

In  the  right  corner  is  a  great  Russian  stove,  the 
rear  of  which  is  set  into  the  wall  which  arches  over 
it,  the  portion  of  the  stove  which  extends  into  the 
room  being  an  incline  up  which  the  personages  must 
scramble  to  reach  the  space  under  the  archway. 

In  the  massive  wall  to  the  right  is  a  door  to  the 
kitchen,  in  which  KvASCHNYA,  the  Baron,  and 
Nastiah  live. 

Below  the  window,  on  the  left,  is  a  broad  bed 
with  dirty  cotton  curtains.  Slightly  L.  C.  (adjoining 
Pepel's  room)  a  flight  of  a  few  steps  leads  back 
to  a  platform,  from  which,  to  the  left  and  behind 

II 


li  SUBMERGED 

Pepel's  room,  lead  other  steps,  to  an  entry  or  hall- 
way. 

A  door  opens  inwardly  on  this  platform,  while  to 
the  right  another  flight  of  stairs  leads  to  a  room 
R.  U.  E.  over  the  stove,  in  luhich  the  proprietor 
and  his  family  live.  The  balustrade  is  in  a  bad  con- 
dition and  a  torn  rug  or  quilt  lies  over  it. 

Between  the  stove  and  the  short  flight  of  steps 
stands  a  broad  low  bench  ivith  four  legs,  which 
serves  as  a  bunk.  Another  such  bunk  is  across  the 
front  of  the  stove,  and  a  third  is  at  the  right  below 
the  door  to  the  kitchen.  Near  this  is  a  wooden 
block  to  which  is  secured  a  small  anvil  and  vise. 
Kleshtsch  sits  on  a  smaller  block,  at  luork  on  a 
pair  of  old  locks,  into  which  he  is  fitting  keys.  At 
his  feet  are  two  bundles  of  keys  of  various  sizes, 
strung  on  wire  hoops,  and  a  damaged  samovar,  {a 
tea  urn  commonly  used  in  Russia),  a  hammer  and 
some  files. 

In  the  middle  of  the  room  a  great  table,  two 
benches,  and  a  heavy  tabouret,  all  unpainted  and 
dirty.  Kvaschnya,  at  the  table  R.  cleaning  a 
samovar,  acts  as  housekeeper,  while  the  Baron  L.  C. 
chews  on  a  piece  of  black  bread,  and  Nastiah  L. 
sits  on  the  tabouret,  her  elbows  on  the  table,  her 
face  in  her  hands,  reading  a  tattered  book.  Anna, 
in  bed,  concealed  by  the  curtains,  is  frequently  heard 
coughing.      BuBNOFF    sits,    tailor   fashion    on    his 


ACT  I  13 

bench,  measuring  off  on  a  form  which  he  holds  be- 
tween his  knees,  the  pieces  of  an  old  pair  of  trou- 
sers which  he  has  ripped  up,  cutting  out  caps  to  the 
best  advantage.  Behind  him  is  a  smashed  hatbox 
from  which  he  cuts  visors,  stacking  the  perfect 
ones  on  two  nails  in  the  partition  and  throwing 
the  useless  ones  about  the  room.  Around  him  are 
bits  of  oilcloth  and  scraps. 

Sahtin,  just  awakening,  on  the  bunk  before  the 
stove,  grumbles  and  roars.  On  the  stove,  hidden  by 
the  left  springer  of  the  arch,  the  Actor  is  heard 
coughing  and   turning. 

Time:    Early  Spring.    Morning. 

Baron — Go  on.     (Desiring  more  of  the  story.) 

KvASCHNYA — Never,  I  tell  you,  my  friend — 
take  it  away.  I've  been  through  it  all,  I  want  you 
to  know.  No  treasure  could  tempt  me  to  marry 
again.     (Sahtin  grunts  at  this.) 

BuBNOFF — (to  Sahtin).  What  are  you  grunt- 
ing about? 

KvASCHNYA — I,  a  free  woman,  my  own  boss, 
shall  I  register  my  name  in  somebody  else's  pass- 
port, become  a  man's  serf,  when  nobody  can  say 
'that'  to  me  now?  Don't  let  me  dream  about  it. 
I'll  never  do  it.  If  he  were  a  prince  from  Amer- 
ica— I  wouldn't  have  him! 


14  SUBMERGED 

Kleshtsch.     You  lie. 

KvASCHNYA  (turning  toward  him).  Wh-atI 
(Turns  back.) 

Kleshtsch — You  are  lying.  You  are  going  to 
marry  Abram. 

Baron  (rises,  takes  Nastiah's  book  and  reads 
the  title) — 'Disastrous  Love.'  (Laughs.) 

Nastiah  (reaches  for  the  book) — Here!  Give  it 
back.     Now;  stop  your  joke. 

The  Baron  eyes  her  and  waves  the  book  in  the 
air. 

KvASCHNYA  (to  Kleshtsch  again) — You  lie, 
you  red-headed  billy  goat;  speaking  to  me  like  that, 
the  nerve  of  it! 

Baron  (gives  Nastiah  a  blow  on  the  head  with 
the  book) — What  a  silly  goose  you  are,  Nastiah. 

Nastiah — Give  it  here  (snatches  the  book). 

Kleshtsch  (to  Kvaschnya) — You  are  a  great 
lady!  .  .  .  But  just  the  same  you'll  be  Abram's 
wife     .     .     .     That  is  what  you  want. 

Kvaschnya — Certainly  (spoken  ironically).  To 
be  sure  .  .  .  What  else  .  .  .  And  you 
beating  your  wife  half  to  death. 

Kleshtsch  (furiously) — Hold  your  tongue,  old 
slut!   What's  that  to  you? 

Kvaschnya  (shouting) — Ah,  ha!  You  can't 
listen  to  the  truth ! 

Baron — Now,   they're    let    loose.      Nastiah, — 


ACT  I  IS 

where  are  you? 

Nastiah  {without  raising  her  head) — What?  let 
me  alone! 

Anna — {Putting  her  head  out  of  the  bed  cur- 
tains). It  is  dawning  already.  For  Heaven's 
sake!    Stop  screaming  and  quarreling. 

Kleshtsch — Croaking  again!      {Contemptuous- 

ly-) 

Anna — Every  day  that  God  gives,  you  quarrel. 
Let  me  at  least  die  in  quiet. 

Bubnoff — The  noise  isn't  keeping  you  from  dy- 
ing. 

Kvaschnya — {Goes  to  Anna.)  Tell  me,  Anna 
dear,  how  have  you  endured  such  a  brute? 

Anna — Let  me  be!  Let  me — 

Kvaschnya — Now,  now,  you  poor  martyr.  Still 
no  better  with  your  breast? 

Baron — It  is  time  for  us  to  go  to  market,  Kvas- 
chnya. 

Kvaschnya — Then  let's  go  now.  {To  Anna.) 
Would  you  like  a  cup  of  hot  custard  ? 

Anna — I  don't  need  it;  thank  you,  though. 
Why  should  I  still  eat? 

Kvaschnya — Oh,  eat!  Hot  food  is  always 
good.  It  is  quieting.  I  will  put  it  away  for  you  in 
a  cup  and  when  your  appetite  comes,  then  eat.  ( To 
the  Baron.)  Let's  go,  sir.  {To  Kleshtsch,  go- 
ing around  him.)      Huh!  you  Satan! 


i6  SUBMERGED 

Anna — (Coughing.)     Oh,  God! 

Baron — (Jostles  Nastiah  on  the  nape  of  the 
neck.)      Drop  it     .     .     .     you  goose. 

Nastiah — (Murmurs.)  Go  on.  I  am  not  in 
your  way.  ( Turns  a  page.  The  Baron  whistles 
in  derision;  crosses  to  R.  Ex.  into  kitchen  following 
Kvaschnya.) 

Sahtin — (Gets  up  from  his  bunk.)  Who  was 
it  that  beat  me  up  yesterday? 

BuBNOFF — That's  all  the  same  to  you. 

Sahtin — Suppose  it  is.     But  what  for? 

BuBNOFF — You  played  cards? 

Sahtin — Played  cards?    Oh,  so  I  did. 

BuBNOFF — That's  why. 

Sahtin — Crooks ! 

Actor — (On  the  stove,  thrusting  his  head  out.) 
They'll  kill  you  once,  some  day. 

Sahtin — You  are — a  blockhead! 

Actor — Why  so? 

Sahtin — They  couldn't  kill  me  twice,  could 
they? 

Actor — (After  a  short  silence.)  I  don't  see  it. 
— Why  not? 

Kleshtsch — (Turning  to  him.)  Crawl  down 
off  the  stove  and  clean  the  place  up!  You're  too 
finicky,  anyhow. 

Actor — That's  none  of  your  business.     .     .     . 

Kleshtsch — Wait!     .     .     .     When  Wassilissa 


ACT  I  17 

comes  she  will  show  you  whose  business  it  is. 

Actor — The  devil  take  Wassilissa.     The  Baron 
must    fix    things    up    today,    it's   his    turn. 
Baron ! 

Baron — {Enters  R.  from  kitchen.)  I  haven't 
time.     I  must  go  to  market  with  Kvaschnya. 

Actor — That's  nothing  to  me  .  .  .  Go  to 
the  devil  for  all  I  care  .  .  .  but  the  floor  must 
be  swept  up  and  it's  vour  turn.  .  .  .  Don't 
imagine  that  I  will  do  somebody  else's  work. 

Baron — {Crosses  to  Nastiah.)  No?  Then 
the  deuce  take  you !  Nastengka  will  sweep  up  a  lit- 
tle. Say!  You!  'Disastrous  Love!'  Wake  up! 
( Takes  the  book.) 

Nastiah — {Rising.)  What  do  you  want?  Give 
it  here,  you  mischief  maker.  And  this  is  a  noble- 
man! 

Baron — {Gives  the  book  back.)  Nastiah!  Do  a 
little  bit  of  sweeping  for  me — will  you? 

Nastiah — {Goes  R.  Ex.  R.  into  kitchen.)  Sure, 
I'm  crazy  to. 

Kvaschnya — {Within,  to  the  Baron).  Come 
along.  They  can  certainly  clean  up  without  j^ou. 
{Ex.  Baron  R.)  You,  Actor,  you  must  do  it. 
You  were  asked  to  do  it,  so  do  it  then.  It  won't 
break  your  back. 

Actor — Now,  always  I — h'm — I  can't  under- 
stand   it.      ( The   Baron    enters  from    the   kitchen 


i8  SUBMERGED 

carrying,  by  means  of  a  yoke,  two  baskets  contain- 
ing fat  jars  covered  with  rags.) 

Baron — Pretty  heavy  to-day. 

Sahtin — You  could  do  that  without  being  a 
baron. 

KvASCHNYA — {To  the  Actor.)  See  to  it  that 
you  sweep  up.  {Ex.  to  the  entry  L.  U.  E.  preceded 
by  the  Baron.) 

Actor — {Cmwls  doiun  from  the  stove.)  I  must 
not  inhale  dust.  It  injures  me  {self -pityingly.)  My 
organism  is  poisoned  with  alcohol.  {Sits  introspec- 
tively  on  the  bunk  before  the  stove.) 

Sahtin — Orgism.     Organism   {derisively.) 

Anna — {To  Kleshtsch.)  Andrew  Mit- 
ritch. 

Kleshtsch — What  is  the  matter  now? 

Anna — Kvaschnya  left  some  custard  for  me.  Go 
eat  it. 

Kleshtsch — {Crosses  to  her.)     Won't  you  eat? 

Anna — I  won't.  Why  should  I  eat?  You — 
work.    You  must  eat. 

Kleshtsch — Are  you  afraid?  Do  not  despair. 
Perhaps  you'll  be  better  again. 

Anna — Go,  eat.  My  heart  is  grieved ;  the  end  is 
near. 

Kleshtsch — {Moves  away.)  Oh,  no;  perhaps 
— you  can  get  up  yet — such  things  have  happened. 
{Ex.  R.  into  kitchen.) 


ACT  I  19 

Actor — {Loudly,  as  though  suddenly  awakened 
from  a  dream.)  Yesterday,  in  the  dispensary,  the 
doctor  said  to  me :  'Your  organism  is  poisoned  with 
alcohol,  through  and  through.' 

Sahtin — {Laughing.)      Orgism! 

Actor — {With  emphasis.)  Not  orgism,  but  or- 
ganism— or-gan-is-m. 

Sahtin — Sigambrer ! 

Actor — {JVith  a  depreciating  movement  of  the 
hand.)  Ah!  gibberish.  I  tell  you  I'm  speaking  in 
earnest.  My  organism  is  poisoned  ...  so 
that  I  shall  be  injured  if  I  sweep  the  room  .  .  . 
and  breathe  the  dust. 

Sahtin — Microbites     .     .     .     ha! 

BuBNOFF — What  are  you  muttering  about? 

Sahtin — Words  .  .  .  then  there  is  still 
another  word :  transcendental. 

BuBNOFF — What  does  that  mean? 

Sahtin — I  don't  know,  I've  forgotten. 

BuBNOFF — Wliy  do  you  say  it  then? 

Sahtin — Just  so  .  .  .  I'm  tired  of  all  our 
words,  Bubnof¥.  Every  one  of  them  I've  heard  at 
least  a  thousand  times. 

Actor — As  it  says  in  Hamlet,  'Words,  words, 
words.'  A  magnificent  piece,  'Hamlet' — I've  played 
the  grave  digger. 

Kleshtsch — {Entering  R.  from  the  kitchen.) 
Will  you  begin  to  play  the  broom? 


20  SUBMERGED 

Actor — That's  very  little  to  you.  (Strikes  his 
breast  with  his  fist.)  'The  fair  Ophelia!  Nymph, 
in  thy  orisons.  Be  all  my  sins  remembered!'  {With- 
in, somewhere  in  the  distance,  are  heard  dull  cries 
and  the  shrill  sound  of  a  policeman's  whistle. 
Kleshtsch  sits  down  to  work  and  the  rasping  of 
his  file  is  heard.) 

Sahtix — I  love  the  incomprehensible  rare  words. 
As  a  young  man  I  was  in  the  telegraph  service.  I 
have  read  many  books. 

BuBNOFF — So  you  have  been  a  telegraph  opera- 
tor? 

Sahtin — To  be  sure.  [Laughs.)  Many  beauti- 
ful books  exist,  and  a  lot  of  curious  words.  I  was 
a  man  of  education,  understand  that? 

BuBNOFF — I've  already  heard  so,  a  hundred 
times.  What  does  the  world  care  what  a  man  was. 
I,  for  example,  was  a  furrier,  had  my  own  place  of 
business.  My  arm  was  quite  yellow — from  the 
dye,  when  I  colored  the  furs — quite  yellow,  my 
friend,  up  to  the  elbow.  I  though  that  my  whole 
life  long  I  could  never  wash  it  clean,  would  de- 
scend, with  yellow  hands,  into  my  grave,  and  now 
look  at  them,  they  are — simply  dirty,  see! 

Sahtin — And  what  more? 

BuBNOFF — Nothing  more. 

Sahtin — What  of  it  all? 

BuBNOFF — I    mean    only     ...     by    way    of 


ACT  I  21 

example  ...  no  matter  how  gaily  a  man  lays 
the  color  on,  it  all  rubs  off  again  ...  all  off 
again !     See ! 

Sahtin — Hm!     .     .     .     My  bones  ache! 

Actor — (Sits  on  the  bunk  before  the  stove,  his 
arms  over  his  knees.)  Education  is  a  rigmarole, 
the  main  thing  is  genius.  I  once  knew  an  actor 
.  he  could  scarcely  read  the  words  of  his 
part,  but  he  played  his  hero  in  such  a  way  that  the 
walls  of  the  theatre  shook  with  the  ecstasy  of  the 
public     .     .     . 

Sahtin — Bubnoff,    give   me   five   copecs, 

BuBNOFF — I've  got  only  two  myself. 

Actor — I  say,  genius  a  leading  man  must  have. 
Genius — believe    in   yourself,    in   your   own   power. 

Sahtin — Give  me  five  copecs  and  I  will  believe 
that  you  are  a  genius,  a  hero,  a  crocodile,  a  precinct 
captain.     Kleshtsch,  give  me  a  fiver. 

Kleshtsch — Go  to  the  devil.  There  are  too 
many  ragamuffins  about. 

Sahtin — Stop  scolding;  I  know  you  have  noth- 
ing. 

Anna — Andrew  Mitritch  ...  It  is  suf- 
focating.    It  is  hard.     .     .     . 

Kleshtsch — ^What  can  I  do  about  that? 

Bubnoff — Open  the  door  to  the  street  floor. 

Kleshtsch — Well  said!  You  sit  on  your  bench 


22  SUBMERGED 

and  I  on  the  ground — Let  us  change  places  and 
then  open  the  door     ...     I  have  a  cold  already. 

BuBNOFF — (Undisturbed.)  It  Is  not  for  me. 
.     .     .     Your  wife  asks  for  it. 

Kleshtsch — (Scowling.)  A  good  many  things 
are  being  asked  for  in  this  world. 

Sahtin — My  headpiece  hums.  Ah,  why  do  peo- 
ple always  go  for  your  head? 

BuBXOFF — Not  only  the  head,  but  also  other 
parts  of  the  body  are  often  struck.  (Gets  up.)  I 
must  get  some  thread.  The  landlord  and  landlady 
are  late  today.  But  they  might  be  rotting  already 
for  all  I  know.  (Ex.  L.  U.  E.  Anna  coughs. 
Sahtin,  luith  his  hands  under  his  neck,  lies  motion- 
less. ) 

Actor — (Regards  the  atmosphere  gloomily  and 
goes  to  Anna's  bed.)     Well,  how  is  it?  Bad? 

Anna — It  is  stifling.     .     .     . 

Actor — Shall  I  take  you  out  into  the  entry? 
Get  up  then.  (He  helps  the  sick  woman 
up,  throws  tattered  shawl  over  her  shoulders  and 
supports  her,  as  they  totter  up  the  steps  to  the  land- 
ing.) Come,  now  ...  be  brave.  I,  too,  am 
a  sick  man — poisoned  with  alcohol.  (Enter  Kos- 
TILIOFF.  L.  U.  E.) 

KosTiLTOFF — (At  the  door.)  Out  for  a  prome- 
nade?   What  a  fine  couple — Jack  and  Jill. 

Actor — Stand  aside.     Don't  you  see  that — the 


ACT  I  23 

sick  are  passing  by? 

KosTiLiOFF — All  right,  pass  by,  then.  (Hum- 
?ning  the  melody  of  a  church  hymn,  he  takes  a  mis- 
trustful look  about  the  basement,  descends  to  the 
floor,  leans  his  head  to  the  left  as  if  to  overhear 
something  in  Pepel's  room.  Kleshtsch  claps  fu- 
riously with  the  keys  and  files  noisily,  the  proprietor 
giving  him  a  black  look.)  Busy  scraping,  eh? 
{Crosses  to  R.  F.) 

Kleshtsch — What  ? 

KosTiLiOFF — Busy    scraping,     I    said     .     .     . 
(Pause.)     Hm — yes     .     .     .   What  was  I  going  to 
say?     (Hastily  and  in  a  lower  tone.)     Wasn't  my 
wife  there? 

Kleshtsch — Haven't  seen  her     .     .     . 

KOSTILIOFF — (Guardedly  approaches  the  door  of 
Pepel's  room.)  How  much  space  you  take  for 
your  two  rubles  a  month !  That  bed  .  .  .  You 
yourself  sitting  everlastingly  here — nyah,*  five  ru- 
bles' worth,  at  least.     I  raise  you  half  a  ruble.   .   .   . 

Kleshtsch — Put  a  halter  around  my  neck 
.  .  .  and  raise  me  a  little  more.  You  are  an 
old  man,  j'ou'll  soon  be  rotting  in  your  grave  .  .  . 
and  you  think  of  nothing  but  half  rubles. 

Kostilioff — Why  should  I  halter  you?  Who 
would  be  the  better  for  that?   Live,  may  God  bless 


*An  expression  equivalent  to  no  or  yes. 


24  SUBMERGED 

you,  be  content.  Yet  I  raise  you  half  a  ruble  to 
buy  oil  for  the  holy  lamps  .  .  .  and  my  of- 
fering will  burn  before  the  holy  image  .  .  . 
for  the  remission  of  my  sins,  and  thine  also  . 
You  never  think  yourself  of  3^our  sins,  I  guess,  do 
you  .  .  .  ah,  Andreuschka,  what  a  sinful 
beast  you  are  .  .  .  your  wife  languishing  in 
agony  from  your  blows  .  .  .  nobody  likes  you, 
nobody  respects  you  .  .  .  your  work  is  so  grat- 
ing that  nobody  can  endure  you. 

Kleshtsch — {Cries  out.)  Do  you  come  .  .  . 
to  hack  me  to  pieces?     {Sahtin  roars  aloud.) 

KoSTiLiOFF — {Shudders.)  Ah  .  .  .  What 
is  the  matter  with  you,  my  friend ! 

Actor — {Enters  from  stairs  L.  U.  E.)  I  took 
the  woman  into  the  entry  .  .  .  put  her  in  a 
chair  and  wrapped  her  up  warm.     .     .     . 

KoSTiLiOFF — What  a  good  Samaritan  you  are. 
It  will  be  rewarded.     .     .     . 

Actor — When  ? 

KosTiLioFF — In  the  next  world,  brother  dear. 
.  .  .  There  they  sit  and  reckon  up  our  every 
word  and  deed. 

Actor — Why  not,  for  the  goodness  of  my  heart, 
give  me  some  recompense  here? 

Kostilioff — How  can  I  do  that? 

Actor — Knock  ofi  half  my  debt.       .     .     . 

Kostilioff — Ha,  ha,   always  having  your   fun, 


ACT  I  25 

little  buck,  always  jollying  .  .  .  Can  goodness 
of  the  heart  be  ever  repaid  with  money?  Good- 
ness of  the  heart  stands  higher  than  all  the  treasures 
of  this  world.  Nyah  .  .  .  and  your  debt — is 
only  a  debt.  ,  .  .  There  it  stands.  .  .  . 
Goodness  of  the  heart  you  must  bestow  upon  an  old 
man  without  recompense. 

Actor — You  are  a  cunning  old  knave. 
{Ex.  R.  into  kitchen.) 

(Kleshtsch   rises  and  goes  upstairs,  L.    U.  E. 

KosTiLiOFF — {To  Sahtin.)  Who  just  sneaked 
out?     The  scrape?     He  is  not  fond  of  me,  he,  he! 

Sahtin — Who  is  fond  of  you  except  the  devil  ? 

KosTiLiOFF — {Laughs  quietly.)  Don't  scold.  I 
have  you  all  so  nicely  .  .  .  my  dear  friends, 
but  I  am  fond  of  you  all,  my  poor,  unhappy  breth- 
ren, citizens  of  nowhere,  hapless  and  helpless  .  .  . 
{Suddenly  brisk.)  Tell  me  ...  is  Waska  at 
home? 

Sahtin — Look  and  see  for  yourself. 

(KOSTILIOFF  goes  to  Pepel's  door,  L.  U.,  and 
knocks.)  Waska!  {Enter  Actor  R.  standing  in 
kitchen  door  chewing  something.) 

Pepel — {Within.)     Who's  that? 

KosTiLiOFF — Me,  Waska.     .     ,     . 

Pepel — {Within.)     What  do  you  want?    .    .    . 

KOSTILIOFF — {Stepping  back.)     Open  the  door. 

Sahtin — {Pretending  to  be  oblivious.)      She  is 


26  SUBMERGED 

there.  The  moment  he  opens  it.  .  .  .  {The 
Actor  chuckles  to  him.) 

KOSTILIOFF — {Disturbed,  softly.)  How,  who  is 
in  there?    What.     .     .     . 

Sahtin — Hm?  Are  you  speaking  to  me? 

KosTiLiOFF — What  did  you  say? 

Sahtin — Nothing  at  all  .  .  .  only  .  .  . 
to  myself     . 

KosTiLiOFF — Take  good  care  of  yourself,  my 
friend  .  .  .  you  are  too  waggish.  {Knocks 
loudly  on  the  door.)      Wassili     .     .     . 

PfiPEL — {Opening  the  door.)  What  are  you 
bothering  me  about? 

KosTiLiOFF — {Peers  into  Pepel's  room.)  I 
.     .     .     you  see     .     .     .     you  see     .     .     . 

Pepel — Have  you  brought  the  money? 

KosTiLiOFF — I  have  a  little  business  with  you. 

Pepel — Have  you  brought  the  money? 

KosTiLiOFF — Which  money?     .     .     .     wait. 

Pepel — Money,  the  seven  rubles  for  the  watch, 
see! 

KosTiLiOFF — Which  watch,  Waska!  Ah,  you 
.     .     .     none  of  your  tricks. 

Pepel — Be  careful.  I  sold  you  yesterday  in  the 
presence  of  witnesses  a  watch  for  ten  rubles  .  .  . 
I  got  three,  and  now  I'll  take  the  other  seven.  Out 
with  them.  What  are  you  blinking  about  around 
here     .     .     .     disturbing   everybody     .     .     .     and 


ACT  I  27 

forgetting  the  main  thing.     .     .     . 

KosTiLioFF — Ssh!  Not  so  quick,  Waska.  The 
watch  was,  indeed     .     .     . 

Sahtin — Stolen. 

KosTiLiOFF — {Stoutly,  sharply.)  I  never  re- 
ceive stolen  goods.     .     .     .     How  dare  you    .    .    . 

Pepel — {Takes  him  by  the  shoulders.)  Tell  me, 
why  did  you  wake  me  up?    What  do  you  want? 

KosTiLiOFF — I     .     .     .     Nothing  at  all     .     .     . 
I  am  going  already     .     .     .     when  you  act  so. 
.  Pepel — Go  then,  and  bring  me  the  money. 

KosTiLiOFF — {As  he  goes.)  Tough  customers 
.     .     .     ah!  ah!  {Ex.  L.  U.  E.) 

Actor — Here  is  comedy  for  you! 

Sahtin — Very  good,  I  like  it.     .     .     . 

Pepel — What  did  he  want? 

Sahtin — {Laughing.)  Don't  you  catch  on? 
He  was  looking  for  his  wife.  .  .  .  Say,  why 
don't  you  finish  him,  Waska? 

Pepel — Would  it  pay  to  spoil  my  life  for  such 
stuff? 

Sahtin — Spoil  your  life!  Naturally  you  must 
do  it  cleverly  .  .  .  Then  marry  Wassilissa 
.     .     .     and  be  our  landlord.     .     .     . 

Pepel — That  would  be  nice.  You,  my  guests, 
would  soon  guzzle  up  the  whole  place,  and  me  in 
the  bargain  ...  I  am  much  too  open-handed 
for  you.     {Sits  on  the  bunk  17.)     Yes,  old  devil! 


28  SUBMERGED 

Waked  me  up  out  of  my  best  sleep  ...  I 
was  having  a  beautiful  dream.  I  dreamed  that  I 
was  fishing,  and  suddenly  I  caught  a  big  trout.  A 
trout,  I  tell  you  .  .  .  only  in  dreams  are  there 
such  great  trout.  ...  I  pulled  and  pulled, 
till  his  gills  almost  snapped  off  .  .  .  and  just 
as  I  was  finishing  him  with  a  net  .  .  .  and 
thinking  I  had  him.     .     .     . 

Sahtin — 'Twasn't   any   trout,    'twas  Wassilissa. 

Actor — He  has  had  her  in  the  net  a  long  while. 

Pepel — (Angrily.)  Go  to  the  devil  .  .  . 
with  your  Wassilissa. 

Kleshtsch — (Entering  L.  U.  E.)  Its  beastly 
cold  outside. 

Actor — Why  didn't  you  bring  Anna  back?  She 
will  freeze  to  death. 

Kleshtsch — Natasha  had  taken  her  along  to  the 
kitchen. 

Actor — The  old  scamp  will  chase  her  out.   .   .   . 

Kleshtsch — (Crosses  R.  D.  and  sits  down  to 
work.)     Natasha  will  soon  bring  her  in. 

Sahtin — Wassili,  five  copecs. 

Actor — Yes,  five  copecs,  Waska,  give  us  twenty 

Pepel — If  I  don't  hurry.  .  .  .  You'll  want 
a  whole  ruble  .  .  .  there!  (Gives  the  Actor 
a  coin.) 

Sahtin — Giblartarr!    There  are  no  better  men 


ACT  I  29 

in  the  world  than  the  thieves ! 

Kleshtsch — They  get  their  money  easy  .  .  . 
they  don't  work.     .     .     . 

Sahtin — Money  comes  easy  to  many,  but  very 
few  give  it  up  easily  .  .  .  Work,  if  you  ar- 
range it  so  that  work  gives  me  joy,  then  perhaps  I 
will  work  too  .  .  .  perhaps!  When  work  is 
a  pleasure — then  life  is  beautiful  .  .  .  When 
you  must  work — then  life  is  slavery.  {To  Actor.) 
Come  Sardanapalus,  we  will  go. 

Actor — Come,  Nebuchadnezzar,  I  will  get  as 
drunk  as  forty  thousand  topers.      {Ex.  both  L.   U. 

E.) 

Pepel — {Gapes).     How  is  your  wife? 

Kleshtsch — {Pause.)  She  won't  last  long,  I 
guess. 

Pepel — When  I  sit  and  watch  you  so,  I  think, 
what  good  comes  of  all  your  scraping. 

Kleshtsch — What  else  shall  I  do? 

Pepel — Do  nothing. 

Kleshtsch — How  shall  I  eat  ? 

Pepel — Other  men  eat  without  taking  so  much 
trouble. 

Kleshtsch — Other  men?    You  mean  this  rag- 

'  ged  pack  of  tramps  here,  idlers,  you  call  them  men ! 

I    am    a   workingman"    ...     I    am    ashamed    to 

look  at  them.     I  have  worked  from  childhood  on. 

Do  vou  think  that  I  shall  never  crawl  out  of  this 


30  SUBMERGED 

cesspool  again?  It  is  quite  certain,  let  me  work 
the  skin  off  my  hands,  but  I'll  get  out  .  .  . 
wait  until  after  my  wife  dies  ...  six  months 
in  this  hole     ...     it  seems  like  six  years. 

Pepel — What  are  you  complaining  about? 
.     .     .     we  are  no  worse  than  you. 

Kleshtsch — No  worse  .  .  .  people  living 
on  God's  earth  without  honor  or  conscience? 

Pepel — (In  an  impartial  tone,  cool.)  What 
good  is  honor  or  conscience?  You  can't  put  such 
things  on  your  feet  when  the  snow  is  on  the  ground. 
Honor  and  conscience  to  those  in  power  and  au- 
thority. 

BuBNOFF — (Enters  L.  U.  E.)  Ug-h!  I'm  froz- 
en stiff. 

Pepel — Tell  me,  Bubnoff,  have  you  a  conscience? 

BuBNOFF — What?     A  conscience? 

Pepel — Yes. 

Bubnoff — What  use  is  it  to  me?  I'm  no  mil- 
lionaire.    .     .     . 

Pepel — That's  what  I  say.  Honor  and  con- 
science are  only  for  the  rich — and  yet  Kleshtsch, 
here,  is  pulling  us  over  the  coals;  we  have  no  con- 
science he  says     .     .     . 

Bubnoff — Does  he  want  to  borrow  some  from 
us? 

Pepel — He  has  plenty  of  his  own.     .     .     . 

Bubnoff — Maybe  you'll  sell  us  some?     No,  it 


ACT  I  31 

don't  sell  here.  If  it  was  broken  hat  boxes,  I'd  buy 
.     .     .     but  only  on  credit.     .     .     . 

Pepel — {Instructively,  to  Kleshtsch.)  You're 
certainly  a  fool,  Andreuschka.  You  ought  to  hear 
what  Sahtin  says  about  a  conscience  ...  or 
the  Baron. 

Kleshtsch — I  have  nothing  to  talk  to  them 
about. 

Pepel — They  have  more  wit  than  you,  even  if 
they  are  drunks.     .     .     . 

BuBNOFF — When  a  clever  fellow  drinks,  he  dou- 
bles his  wit. 

Pepel — Sahtin  says:  every  man  wants  his  neigh- 
bor to  have  some  conscience — but  for  himself,  he 
can  do  without  it     .     ,     .     and  that's  right. 

(Natasha  enters  L.  U.  E.,  and  behind  her 
LuKA^  with  a  staff  in  his  hand,  a  sack  on  his  back, 
and  a  small  kettle  and  tea  boiler  at  his  girdle.) 

LuKA — Good  day  to  you,  honest  folks. 

Pepel — {Pulling  his  moustache.)  A-h,  Natasha. 

BuBNOFF — {To  LuKA. )  Honest  were  we  once, 
as  you  must  know,  but  since  last  spring,  a  year 
ago.     .     .     . 

Natasha — Here — a  new  lodger.     .     .     . 

LuKA — {To  BuBNOFF.)  It's  all  the  same  to 
me.  I  know  how  to  respect  thieves,  too.  Any 
flea,  say  I,  may  be  just  as  good  as  you  or  me;  all  are 
black,   and    all    jump     .     .     .     that's    the    truth. 


32  SUBMERGED 

Where  shall  I  quarter  myself  here,  my  love? 

Natasha — {Points  to  the  kitchen  door.)  Go  in 
there     .     .     .     daddy. 

LuKA — Thank  you,  my  girl,  as  you  say  .  .  . 
A  warm  corner  is  an  old  man's  delight.  (Ex.  R. 
into  kitchen.) 

Pepel — What  an  agreeable  old  chap  you  have 
brought  along,  Natasha? 

Natasha — No  matter,  he  is  more  interesting 
than  you.  {Then  to  Kleshtsch.)  Andrew,  your 
wife  is  with  us  in  the  kitchen  .  .  .  come  for 
her  after  a  while. 

Kleshtsch — All  right,  I'll  come. 

Natasha — Be  good  to  her  now  ...  we 
won't  have  her  long     .     .     . 

Kleshtsch — I  know  it     .     .     . 

Natasha — Yes,  you  know  it  .  .  .  but  that 
is  not  enough!  jMake  it  quite  clear  to  j^ourself, 
think  what  it  means  to  die  .  .  .  it  is  fright- 
ful. 

Pepel — You  see  I  am  not  afraid    .     .     . 

Natasha — The  brave  are  not,     .     .     . 

BuBNOFF — {Whistles.)      The    thread    is   rotten. 

Pepel — Certainly  I  am  not  afraid,  I  would  wel- 
come death  right  now.  Take  a  knife  and  strike  me 
in  the  heart — not  a  murmur  will  I  utter.  I  would 
meet  death  with  joy  .  .  .  from  clean  hands 
like  yours. 


ACT  I  !  33 

Natasha — {As   she   goes.)      Do    not   say   any- 
thing which  is  not  so,  Pepel. 

BuBNOFF — (Drawling.)      The    thread    is    abso- 
lutely rotten. 

Natasha — {From  the  door  to  the  entry.)   Don't 
forget  your  wife,  Andrew. 

Kleshtsch — All   right.      {Ex.   Natasha.) 

Pepel — A  fine  girl. 

BuBNOFF — None  better, 

Pepel — But  what   has   set   her   against   me  so? 
She  alone     .     .     .     always  refusing  me     .     .     . 
but  this  life  will  be  her  ruin,  all  the  same. 

BuBNOFF — It   is  you   who  will   be   the   ruin   of 
her. 

Pepel — I  be  her  ruin     ...     I  pity  her    .    .   . 

BuBNOFF — As  the  wolf  pities  the  lamb. 

Pepel — You   lie!    I   do  pity  her     .     .     .     Her 
lot  is  very  hard.     .     .     .     I  see  that.     .     .     . 

Kleshtsch — Just   wait   until    Wassilissa    finds 
you  together.     .     .     . 

BuBNOFF — Yes,    Wassilissa!     Nobody    can    play 
any  tricks  on  her,  the  fiend. 

Pepel — {Stretches  himself  out  on  the  bunk,  U.) 
The  devil  take  you  both,  prophets. 

Kleshtsch — Wait     .     .     .     and  see.     .     .     . 

LuKA — {Within,  singing.)      'In  the  darkness  of 
midnight,  no  path  can  be  found.' 

Kleshtsch — Now  he    is    beginning    to    howl. 


34  SUBMERGED 

.  .  .  (Crosses  to  L.  U.  E.)  He  too  is  begin- 
ning.    (Ex.) 

Pepel — My  heart  is  in  the  depths  .  .  .  why 
it  is?  We  live  and  live  and  everything  goes  well 
.  .  .  then  all  of  a  sudden  .  .  .  melan- 
choly like  a  blighting  frost  settles  upon  us.  Life  is 
used  up. 

BuBNOFF — Sad,  melancholy,  eh?     .     .     . 

Pepel — Yes     ...     by  God. 

LuKA — {Si?iging.)     "No  path  can  be  found." 

Pepel — Heh,  you  bag  of  bones. 

LuKA — (Enters  R.)     Do  you  mean  me? 

Pepel — Yes,  you.     Cut  the  singing  out. 

LuKA — (Crossing  to  C.)  Don't  you  like  sing- 
ing? 

Pepel — When  singing  is  well  sung,  I  enjoy  it. 

LuKA — Then  I  do  not  sing  well? 

Pepel — That's  about  right. 

LuKA — Too  bad,  and  I  thought  that  I  sang 
beautifully.  So  it  always  goes.  You  think  to  your- 
self, I  have  done  that  well,  but  the  public  is  not 
pleased.     .     . 

Pepel — (Laughs.)     You  are  right,  there. 

BuBNOFF — Ump!  roaring  again,  and  just  now 
you  said  life  was  so  sad,  melancholy. 

Pepel — What  have  you  to  say  about  it,  old  rav- 
en. 

LuKA — Who  is  despondent? 


ACT  I  35 

Pepel — I  .  .  .  {The  Baron  enters  L.  U. 
E.) 

LuKA — So,  and  there — in  the  kitchen  sits  a  girl 
reading  a  book  and  crying ;  upon  my  word !  Her 
tears  flowing  ...  I  asked  her,  what  troubles 
you,  my  love — eh  ?  And  she  said :  It  is  so  pitiful 
.  .  .  Whom  do  you  pity  then?  I  asked.  .  .  . 
See,  here  in  the  book,  the  people,  said  she  .  .  . 
And  that  is  how  she  passes  her  time  to  drive  away 
despondency,  it  appears.     .     .     . 

Baron — She  is  a  fool. 

Pepel — Have  you  had  5^our  tea.  Baron?  {Aii 
invitation.) 

Baron — Tea,  yes     .     .     .     anything  more? 

Pepel — Shall  I  stand  for  a  bottle  of  rum,  eh, 
that's  right. 

Baron — Of  course     .     .     .     what  more? 

Pepel — Let  me  ask  you  to  stand  on  all  fours  and 
bark  like  a  dog. 

Baron — Blockhead;  are  you  a  Croesus?  Or  are 
you  drunk? 

Pepel — That's  right,  bark  away.  I  shall  enjoy 
it.  .  .  .  You  are  a  gentleman  .  .  .  There 
was  a  time  once  when  you  did  not  take  us  for  hu- 
man beings  even  .  .  .  and  so  on  .  .  .  and 
so  on. 

Baron — Well,  and  what  more? 

Pepel — What  more?      I'll    let   you   bark   now. 


36  SUBMERGED 

You'll  bark,  won't  you? 

Baron — I  have  no  objection  on  my  own  account 
.  .  .  booby.  How  can  it  be  such  fun  for  you. 
.  .  .  When  I  know  myself  that  I  am  sunk  deep- 
er even  than  you.  .  .  .  Had  you  once  dared 
you  ought  to  have  tried  to  get  me  on  all  fours  when 
I  was  above  you. 

BuBNOFF — You  are  right. 

LuK--^ — So  I  say  too,  you  are  right. 

BuBNOFF — What  has  been  has  been.  Nothing 
is  left  but  trash  ...  we  are  not  dukes  here 
.  .  .  the  trappings  are  gone  .  .  .  only  the 
bare  man  remains.     .     .     . 

LuKA — All  are  alike,  know  that.  .  .  .  Were 
you  once  a  baron,  my  friend? 

Baron — ^What's  that  \'ou  say?  Who  are  you, 
sepulchre  ? 

LuKA — (Laughs.)  An  earl  I  have  seen  already 
and  a  prince  .  .  .  too  .  .  .  But  now  for 
the  first  time,  a  baron,  and  a  seedy  one     .     .     . 

Pepel — (Laughs).  Ha,  ha,  ha,  I  blush  for  you, 
Baron. 

Baron — Don't  be  an  idiot,  Wassili.     .     .     . 

LuKA — Yes,  yes,  my  friends.  When  I  look 
around  me     .     .     .     this  life  here     ...     ah! 

BuBNOFF — This  life,  .  .  .  why,  this  life 
here  would  make  any  man  howl,  from  break-o'-day 
on,  like  a  starving  owl. 


'  ACT  I  37 

Baron — To  be  sure,  we  have  all  seen  better  days. 
I  for  example  .  .  .  On  waking  up  I  used  to 
drink  my  coffee  in  bed  .  .  .  coffee  with  cream 
.     .     .     that's  right. 

LuKA — And  you  are  still  a  man.  No  matter 
what  somersaults  you  turn  before  us,  as  a  man  you 
were  born  and  as  a  man  you  must  die.  The  more 
I  look  about  myself,  the  more  I  contemplate  man- 
kind, the  more  interesting  he  grows  .  .  .  poor- 
er and  poorer  he  sinks  and  higher  and  higher  his 
aspirations  mount     .     .     .     obstinacy. 

Baron — Tell  me,  old  man  .  .  ,  exactly 
who  you  are     .     .     .     where  do  you  come  from? 

LuKA— Who?  I? 

Baron — Are  you  a  pilgrim? 

LuKA — We  are  all  pilgrims  here  on  this  earth. 
.  .  .  It  has  been  said,  even,  I  am  told,  that  our 
earth  is  only  a  pilgrimage  to  Heaven's  gate.     .    .    . 

Baron — It  is  so,  but  tell  me  .  .  .  have  you 
a  passport? 

LuKA — (Hesitatingly.)  Who  are  you?  A  de- 
tective ? 

Pepel — (Briskly.)  Well  said,  old  man!  Ha, 
my  lord,  that  went  home! 

BuBNOFF — He  gets  what  is  coming  to  him.  .  .  . 

Baron — (Disconcerted.)  Well!  well!  I  am 
only  joking,  old  man.     I've  no  papers,  myself. 

Bubnoff — ^You  lie! 


38  SUBMERGED 

Baron — That  is  to  say  ...  I  have  papers 
.     .     .     but  they're  of  no  use. 

LuKA — So  it  is  with  all  pen  scratches  .  .  . 
they're  of  no  use.     .     .     . 

Pepel — Baron!  Come  have  one,  for  the  sake  of 
thirst. 

Baron — I'm  with  you.  Bye-bye,  see  you  again, 
old  chap.     .     .     .     You're  a  sly  dog.     .     .     . 

LuKA — It  may  be  true,  my  friend. 

Pepel — {At  the  door  L.  U.  E.)  Are  you  com- 
ing?    {Ex.  followed  quickly  by  the  Baron.) 

LuKA — Has  the  man  really  been  a  baron? 

BuBNOFF — Who  knows?  He  has  been  a  noble- 
man, that  is  certain.  Even  now  his  former  air 
shows  through.     The  manner  clings     .     . 

LuKA — Breeding  is  like  the  smallpox:  The  man 
recovers,  but  the  pits  remain. 

BuBNOFF — But  otherwise  he  is  a  good  fellow 
.  .  .  except  that  sometimes  he  is  overbearing. 
.     .     .     As  he  was  about  your  passport.     .     .     . 

Alyoschka — {Enters  L.  U.  E.  drunk,  an  ac- 
cordeon  under  his  arm.  He  whistles.)  Hey,  there, 
neighbors. 

BuBNOFF — What  are  you  howling  about? 

Alyoschka — Excuse  me,  please  ,  .  .  pass 
it  over.     I  am  a  cozy  boy.     .     .     . 

BuBNOFF — Broken  out  again? 

Alyoschka — Why  not?  Police  captain  Medvis- 


ACT  I  39 

kin  has  just  chased  me  off  his  beat.  "Take  your 
stand  out  of  the  street,"  says  he.  No,  no,  I  am 
still  a  youth  of  good  temperament  ...  the 
boss  was  jawing  at  me  too  .  .  .  bah,  what  do 
I  care  for  bosses  .  .  .  bah,  everything  is  all  a 
mistake,  should  a  tank  be  boss  .  .  .  I  am  a 
man,  who  .  .  .  never  a  wish  have  .  .  . 
has  ...  I  want  nothing  .  .  .  that  set- 
tles it  .  .  .  now,  take  me  .  .  .  for  one 
ruble  and  twenty  copecs  you  can  have  me  .  .  . 
and  I  want  ab-solt-ly  nothing.  (Nastiah  enters 
R.  from  Kitchen.)  Offer  me  a  million — and  I 
will  not  take  it.  And  that  whiskey  barrel,  to  be 
boss  over  me,  a  good  man,  no  better  than — it  don't 
go.  I'll  not  stand  for  it.  (Nastiah  remains  stand- 
ing at  the  dnor,  shaking  her  head  at  the  spectacle  of 

Al.YOSCHKA.) 

LuKA — {Good-naturedly.)        Ah,      boy     . 
you  can't  unravel  it. 

BuBNOFF — There  you  have  human  folly. 

Alyoschka — {Lies  doivn  on  the  floor.)  Now, 
eat"  me  up.  Costs  nothing.  I  am  a  desperado.  You 
just  tell  me,  am  I  worse  than  the  others?  How 
am  I  worse?  Just  think,  Medviskin  said.  "Don't 
show  yourself  on  the  street,  or  else  I'll  give  you  one 
in  the  snout."  But  I'll  go  .  .  .  I'll  lie  down 
crosswise  in  the  street,  let  them  choke  me.  I  want 
ab-solt-ly    nothing.     .     .     .     (Rises.) 


40  SUBMERGED 

Nastiah — Wretch  ...  so  young  and  put- 
ting on  such  airs. 

Alyoschka — (Sees  her  and  kneels.)  My  lady, 
my  fraulein,  mamsell!  Parlez  frangais  .  .  . 
price  current     ...     I  am  jagging. 

Nastiah — {Whispers  loudly.)  Wassilissa. 
{Sees  her  coming.) 

Wassilissa — {Opens  door  at  head  of  stairs  R. 
U.  E.  to  Alyoschka.)  Here  again,  ...  al- 
ready ? 

Alyoschka — Good  morning.  Please,  come 
down. 

Wassilissa — Didn't  I  tell  3'ou,  you  pup,  not  to 
show  yourself  here  again?     {Descends.) 

Alyoschka — Wassilissa  Karpovna — if  you 
please,  I'll  play  you  a  funeral  march. 

Wassilissa — {Pushes  him  on  the  shoulder.)  Get 
out! 

Aiyoschka — {Shuffles  to  the  door,  L.  U.  E.) 
No,  I  won't  wait.  First  listen  to  the  funeral 
march.  .  .  .  I've  just  learned  it  .  .  . 
new  music  .  .  .  wait  a  minute  .  .  .  you 
mustn't  act  so. 

Wassilissa — I  will  show  you  how  I  must  act 
.  .  .  I'll  put  the  whole  street  on  your  track, 
you  damned  heathen  ...  so,  telling  folks  on 
me.     .     .     . 

Alyoschka — [Runs  out  L.  U.  E.)     No,  I  am 


ACT  I  41 

already  gone.      (Ex.) 

Wassilissa — (To  BuBNOFF.)  See  to  it  that 
he  does  not  set  foot  in  here  again,  you  hear? 

BuBNOFF — I'm  not  your  watchman. 

Wassilissa — No  but  you  are  a  dead  beat.  How 
much  do  you  owe  me? 

BuBNOFF — {Calmly.)  I  haven't  counted  it 
up.    .     .     . 

Wassilissa — Look  out  or  I'll  count  it  up. 

Alyoschka — (Opens  the  door  and  cries.)  Was- 
silissa Karpovna,  I  am  not  afraid  of  you  .  .  . 
I  am  not  afraid.  {He  hides  behind  a  cloth  which 
hangs   over  the  balustrade  and  LuKA  laughs.) 

Wassilissa — And  who  are  you? 

LuKA — A  pilgrim,  a  mere  wanderer.  I  go  from 
place  to  place.     .     .     . 

Wassilissa — Will  you  stay  over  night  .  .  . 
or  for  good? 

LuKA — I  will  see.  (Alyoschka  slips  into  the 
kitchen.) 

Wassilissa — Your  passport 

Luka — You  may  have  it. 

Wassilissa — Give  it  to  me,  then. 

Luka — I'll  get  it  presently  .  .  .  I'll  drag 
it  to  your  room. 

Wassilissa — A  pilgrim — You  look  it;  say  a 
vagabond  .  .  .  that  sounds  more  like  the 
truth.     .     .     . 


42  SUBMERGED 

LuKA — (Sighs.)  You  are  not  very  hospitable, 
mother.     (Wassilissa  goes  to  Pepel's  door.) 

Alyoschka — {Whispers,  from  the  kitchen.) 
Has   she  gone?     .     .     .     hm. 

Wassilissa — {Turns  on  him.)  Are  you  still 
there?  (Alyoschka  disappears  into  the  kitchen, 
whistling.     Nastiah  and  LuKA  laugh,) 

BuBNOFF — {To  Wassilissa.)  He  is  not 
there.     .     .     . 

Wassilissa — ^Who  ? 

BuBNOFF — Waska,  (Alyoschka  slips  around 
to  the  stairs,  ex.  L.  U.  E.) 

Wassilissa — Have  I  asked  you  for  him? 

BuBNOFF — I  can  see  that  you  are  looking  into 
every  corner. 

Wassilissa — I  am  looking  after  things,  do  you 
understand.  Why  have  you  not  swept  up?  How  often 
have  I  told  you  that  you  must  keep  the  place  clean  ? 

BuBNOFF — It's  the  actor's  turn   today.     .     .     . 

Wassilissa — It  makes  no  difiFerence  to  me  whose 
turn  it  it.  When  the  Health  Department  people 
come  and  fine  me,  I'll  have  you  thrown  out    .     .     . 

BuBNOFF — {Calmly.)  And  what  will  you  live 
on,  in  that  case? 

Wassilissa — See  that  not  a  speck  of  dust  is  left. 
{Goes  to  the  kitchen  door  to  Nastiah.)  And 
what  are  you  standing  around  like  a  post  for?  What 
are  you  gawking  about?     Sweep   up!     Have  you 


ACT  I  43 

not  seen     .     .     .     Natalya?     Has  she  been  here? 

Nastiah — I  don't  know  ...  I  haven't 
seen  her. 

Wassilissa — Bubnoff,  was  my  sister  here? 

BuBNOFF — Certainly.    She  brought  the  old  man. 

Wassilissa — And  he,  was  he  in  his  room? 

Bubnoff — Wassili  .  .  ,  to  be  sure  .  .  . 
She  was  talking  with  Kleshtsch  .  .  .  Na- 
talya.    .     .     . 

Wassilissa — I  did  not  ask  you  who  she  was 
talking  with  .  .  .  Dirt  everywhere,  a  foot 
thick.      Ah,    you    pigs.      See    that    you    clean    up 

.  .  .  do  you  hear  me?  (Exit  quickly  R.  U. 
E.) 

Bubnoff — WTiat  a  nasty  temper  that  woman 
has. 

LuKA — A  brutal  wife. 

Nastiah — This   life   would    brutalize    anybody 
And  tied  to  such  a  husband — how  can  she  bear  that? 

Bubnoee — She  does  not  feel  tied,  so  very  tight. 

LuKA — Is  she  always     ...     so  biting? 

Bubnoff — Always  .  .  .  she  was  looking 
for  her  lover,  you  see,  and  that  dismayed  her 

LuKA — Um,  so  that's  the  trouble  ...  ah, 
yes,  how  many  different  people  there  are  here  on 
this  earth  go  bossing  around  .  .  .  and  all  trj'- 
ing  to  lord  it  over  the  rest,  but  in  spite  of  it  all 


44  SUBMERGED 

bringing  no  cleanness  about. 

BuBNOFF — They    try,    indeed,    to    bring    order 
about,     but     the     wit     is     lacking     .     .     .     which 
means,   that   we   must   finally   clean   up     .     .     . 
Nastiah     .     .     .     won't  j'ou  do  it?     .     .     . 

Nastiah — Certainly!  Am  I  your  chambermaid? 
{She  remains  silent  for  a  time.)  I'll  get  drunk  to- 
day .  .  .  soaked  full.  {Motion  of  her  hand 
to  her  chin.) 

BuBNOFF — Good  business. 

LuKA — What  are  you  going  to  get  drunk  for, 
my  daughter?  You  were  crying  a  moment  ago, 
and  now  you  promise  to  get  drunk. 

Nastiah — {Defiantly.)  And  when  I  have  got- 
ten drunk,  I  will  cry  again    .     .     .    that's  all.   .   .   . 

BuBNOFF — But  it's  not  much. 

LuKA — For  what  reason,  tell  me?  Everything 
has  a  cause,  even  the  smallest  pimple  in  the  face. 
(Nastiah  is  silent,  shaking  her  head.) 

LuKA — Aye,  aye,  such  is  man  .  .  .  that's 
the  way  with  people,  what  will  become  of  them? 
I  will  sweep  up  myself.  Where  do  you  keep  the 
broom  ? 

BuBNOFF — In  the  entry,  behind  the  door.  {Ex. 
LuKA  L.  U.  E.)     Tell  me,  Nastenka. 

Nastiah — {Sits  R.    U.   before  stove.)     Um. 

BuBNOFF — What  has  Wassilissa  got  against 
Alyoschka,   so  much? 


ACT  I  45 

Nastiah — He  has  told  everybody  that  Waska 
don't  like  her  any  more  ...  is  tired  of  her, 
is  going  to  give  her  up,  for  Natasha  interests  him 

.  .  .  I  am  going  to  pull  out  and  find  another 
place.     .     .     . 

BuBNOFF — Why  so? 

Nastiah — I  am  tired  of  it.     I  am  in  the  way 

.     .     .     superfluous. 

BuBNOFF — {Thoughtfully.)  Where  wouldn't 
you  be  superfluous?  Everybody  here  on  earth  is 
superfluous.  .  .  .  (Nastiah  shakes  her  head, 
rises  and  goes  quietly  upstairs  R.  U.  E.  Med- 
viEDEFF  enters  L.  U.  E.  followed  by  Luka  with 
the  broom.) 

Medviedeff — {To  Luka.)  I  don't  remember 
having  seen  }^ou. 

Luka — And  the  rest,  you've  seen  them.  Do  you 
know   everybody  ? 

Medviedeff — Along  my  beat  I  must  know  ev- 
erybody— and   I   don't  know  you.     .     .     . 

Luka — You  would,  if  your  beat  included  the 
whole  world,  but  there  is  a  small  comer  which  has 
been  left  off.      {Ex.  R.) 

Meviedeff — {Crossing  to  BuBNOFF  L.)  That's 
right.  My  beat  is  not  large  .  .  .  but  the  work 
is  worse  than  in  many  bigger  ones.  Just  as  I  came 
off  duty  I  had  to  take  that  young  cobbler  Alyos- 
chka  to  the  station  house.    The  rascal  was  sprawled 


46  SUBMERGED 

out  on  his  back  in  the  middle  of  the  street,  if  you 
can  believe  it,  playing  his  accordeon  and  bellow- 
ing: 'I  want  for  nothing,  I  wish  for  nothing,'  and 
wagons  coming  both  ways  and  traffic  everywhere. 

.  .  .  He  could  easily  have  been  run  over,  or 
something    else    happen     .     .     .     rattlebrain.     . 

.  .  Of  course  I  locked  him  up  ...  he 
is  a  little  too  fresh. 

BuBNOFF — Come      around      tonight     .     .     . 
We'll  have  a  game  of  checkers. 

Medviedeff — I'll  come     .     .     .     hm,  yes     . 

.     .     but  how  is  it  about  Waska? 

Bubnoff — All  right.     .     .     .     Same  old  thing. 

•         •         • 

Medviedeff — Still  alive? 

Bubnoff — Why  not,  his  life  is  worth  living. 

Medviedeff — {Doubtfully.)  So  .  .  .  has 
he?  LuKA  enters  R.  from  kitchen,  and  Ex.  L.  U. 
E.,  a  bucket  to  his  hand.)  Hm — yes  .  .  . 
there  is  a  rumor  about  .  .  .  Waska  .  .  . 
haven't  you  heard? 

Bubnoff — I've  heard  lots  of  things. 

Medviedeff — Something  about  Wassilissa,  he 
.     .     .     have  you  not  noticed? 

Bubnoff — What  ? 

Medviedeff — Why  ...  In  general  .  . 
.  you  know  all  about  it  but  don't  like  to  say  so 
,     .     .     it     is     well     known     ...     (strongly) 


ACT  I  47 

don't  lie,  my  friend ! 

BuBNOFF — Why  should  I  lie? 

Medviedeff — I  thought  ...  ah,  the  curs 
they  say,  in  short  that  Waska  with  Was- 
silissa  .  .  .  so  to  speak  .  .  .  nyah,  what 
do  I  care?  I  am  not  her  father,  but  only  .  .  . 
her  uncle.  ...  It  can't  hurt  me  if  they  can't 
laugh  at  me.  (Kvaschnya  enters  L.  U.  E.)  A 
bad  lot     .     .     .     ah,  you  have  come.     .     .     . 

Kvaschnya — My  dear  captain.  Just  think, 
Bubnoff,  he  proposed  to  me  again  at  the  mar- 
ket. 

BuBNOFF — What  of  it  ,  .  .  Why  do  you 
put  him  off?  He  has  money,  and  is  a  pretty  hearty 
lover,  even  yet.     .     .     . 

Medviedeff — I,     ...     to   be   sure. 

Kvaschnya — Ah,  you  old  grey  stud-horse.  No, 
don't  come  near.  That  foolishness  happens  to  me 
only  once  in  a  lifetime,  and  I've  been  through  it  al- 
ready. Marriage,  for  a  woman,  is  like  jumping 
into  the  river  in  winter ;  once  she's  done  it,  she  re- 
members it  all  her  life. 

Medviedeff — Wait  ...  the  husbands  are 
not  all  the  same.     .     .     . 

Kvaschnya — But  I  always  remain  the  same. 
When  my  dear  husband — when  the  devil  took  him 
— ^when  he  became  a  carcass,  damn  his  ghost,  I  did 
not  leave  the  house  the  whole  day  for  joy;  I  sat 


48  SUBMERGED 

there  all  alone  and  could  scarcely  believe  my  hap- 
piness. 

Medviedeff — Why  did  you  allow  your  husband 
to  beat  you  ?    If  you  had  gone  to  the  police.     . 

KvASCHNYA — Police!  I  complained  to  God  for 
eight  years  .  .  .  and  even  God  couldn't  do 
anything. 

Medviedeff — But  it  is  illegal  now  to  beat 
wives.  .  .  .  Law  and  order  are  now  enforced. 
.  .  .  No  man  dare  beat  anybody  now,  except 
for  the  sake  of  law  and  order.  .  .  .  Wife  beat- 
ing happens  only  in  lawless  places. 

LuKA — {Leads  Anna  in,  L.  U.  E.)     Now,  look 
out     .     .     .     now    we've    crawled    down 
ah,   you   poor   child     .     .     .     How   could   you    go 
around  alone  so,  in  your  condition?    Where  is  your 
bed? 

Anna — {Draws  toward  L.  D.)  Thank  you, 
daddy. 

Kvaschnya — There  you  have  a  married  woman 
.     .     .     look  at  her. 

LuKA — Such     a    poor,    weak     thing     .     .     . 
creeping  about  quite  alone   there  up   in   the  entry, 
clinging    to     the    walls — moaning     without    cease 
why  did  you  allow  her  to  go  out  alone? 

Kvaschnya — We  did  not  notice  it — pardon  me, 
grandfather.  Her  lady  in  waiting  has  probably 
gone  for  a  stroll.     .     .     . 


ACT  I  49 

LuKA — So  you  laugh.  .  .  .  How  can  you 
abandon  another  so?  Whatever  he  may  have  be- 
come— he  still  remains  a  human  being. 

Medviedeff — This  ought  to  be  investigated.  If 
she  dies  suddenly?  We  shall  be  mixed  up  in  it. 
Give  her  every  attention. 

LuKA — Quite  right,  Mr.  Captain.     .     .     . 
Medviedeff — Hm     .     .     .     yes     .     .     .     you 
may   say    so     .     .     .     though    I'm    not    a    captain 
yet.     .     .     . 

LuKA — Is  it  possible?  But  we  should  conclude 
from  your  appearance  that  j^ou  are  a  true  hero. 
{From  above  a  noise,  the  stamping  of  feet  and 
smothered  cries.) 

Medviedeff — Not  quite  }^et — looks  like  a  row. 

Bubnoff — It    sounds    like    one.     .     .     . 

KvASCHNYA — I'll  go  see, 

Medviedeff — And  I've  got  to  go  too  .  .  . 
ah,  the  service!  Why  should  people  be  pulled  apart 
when  they  brawl?  They  finally  quit  fighting  of 
their  own  accord  .  .  .  when  they  are  tired  of 
thumping  each  other  ...  the  best  thing  to 
do  is  to  let  them  get  their  bellies  full  of  fighting 
then  they  don't  row  so  often  .  .  . 
they  aren't  in  shape  to.     .     .     . 

Bubnoff — {Gets  off  his  bench.)     You  must  lay 
your  plan  before  the  authorities.     .     .     . 

KOSTILIOFF — (Throws  open   the  door  L.   U.  E. 


50  SUBMERGED 

and  cries.)  Abram  .  .  .  come  .  .  .  quick 
.  .  .  Wassilissa  is  killing  Natasha  .  .  . 
come     .     .     .     come! 

(KVASCHNYA,  MedVIEDEFF,  BuBNOFF  run  to 
the  entry,  L.  U.  E.,  and  LuKA  looks  after  them, 
shaking  his  head.) 

Anna — Ah,  God  ...  the  poor  Natas- 
henka! 

LuKA — Who  is  brawling  there? 

Anna — Our  landlady  .   .     .   the  two  sisters  .  .    . 

LuKA — {Approaches  Anna.)      Over  heirlooms. 

Anna — Both  are  well  fed  .  .  .  both  are 
healthy.     .     .     . 

LuKA — And  you     .     .     .     what  i';  your  name? 

Anna — My  name  is  Anna.  .  .  .  When  I 
look  at  you  .  .  .  you  are  so  much  like  my  fath- 
er, just  like  my  own  dear  father  .  .  .  you,  too, 
are  so  kind  and  tender. 

LuKA — Because  they  have  knocked  me  about  the 
world  so  much,  that  is  why  I  am  tender.  {Chuckles 
to  himself.) 


ACT  II 

( The  same  scene.  Evening.  Sahtin,  the  Bar- 
on, Krivoi  Zoba  and  the  Tartar  are  sitting  on 
the  bunk  before  the  stove,  playing  cards.  Kleshtsch 
and  the  AcTOR  are  watching  the  game.  Bubnoff 
on  his  bench  is  playing  Parti-Dame  with  Medvie- 
DEFF.  LuKA  is  Sitting  On  the  tabouret  at  Anna's 
bed.  The  room  is  lit  by  two  lamps,  one  hanging  on 
the  wall  over  the  card  players  on  the  right  and  the 
other  above  Bubnoff's  bench. 

Tartar — I'll  play  one  more  game  .  .  .  and 
then  I  quit. 

Bubnoff — Krivoi  Zoba!  A  song.  {He  sings.) 
'Though  still  the  sun  goes  up  and  down,' 

Krivoi  Zoba — {Falling  in.)  'No  gleam  can 
pierce  to  me  in  here.     .     .     .' 

Tartar— (To  Sahtin).  Shuffle  the  cards,  but 
no  crooked  business.  We  already  know  what  a 
swindler  j'ou  are. 

Bubnoff  and  Krivoi  Zoba  {sing  together.) 
'By  day  and  night  my  guards  stand  watch — a — ach, 
My  prison  window  always  near.     .     .     .' 

Anna — Illness  and  blows.  ...  I  have  en- 
dured .  .  .  they  have  been  my  lot  .  .  . 
my  whole  life  long. 

51 


52  SUBMERGED 

LuKA — Ah,  you  poor  child !     Do  not  grieve. 
Medviedeff — What  nerve!     Be  careful! 

BuBNOFF — Ah,  ha!  So  .  .  .  and  so,  and 
so     .     .     .      {throws  down  card  after  card.) 

Tartar — {Threatens  Sahtin  with  his  fist.) 
What  are  you  hiding  the  cards  for!     I  saw  you     . 

.     \ou. 

Krivoi  Zoba — Let  him  go,  Hassan.  They're 
bound  to  cheat  us,  one  way  or  another.  .  .  . 
Sing  some  more,  Bubnoff. 

Anna — I  cannot  remember  to  have  ever  had 
enough  to  eat  .  .  .  with  trembling  and  fear 
.  .  .  have  I  eaten  every  piece  of  bread.  .  .  . 
I  have  trembled  and  constantly  feared  .  .  .  lest 
I  eat  more  than  my  share.  .  .  .  My  whole  life 
long  have  I  gone  in  rags  .  .  .  my  whole  ill- 
fated  life     .     .     .     \^^^y  should  this  have  been? 

LuKA — Ah,  you  poor  child!  You  are  tired?  It 
will  soon  be  right! 

Actor — {To  Krivoi  Zoba.)  Play  the  jack 
.     .     .     the  jack,  damn  it. 

Baron — And  we  have  the  king! 

Kleshtsch — These  cards  will  always  win. 

Sahtin — So     .     .     .     they  will. 

Medviedeff — A  queen! 

Bubnoff — Another     .     .     .     there! 

Anna — I  am  dying.     .     .     . 

Kleshtsch — {To  the  Tartar.)     There — look 


ACT  II  53 

out!     Throw  the  cards  down,  prince,  stop  playing. 

Actor — Don't  you  think  he  knows  what  to  do? 

Baron — Be  careful,  Andrejuschka,  that  I  don't 
throw  you  out  of  the  house. 

Tartar — Again,  I  say.  The  pitcher  goes  to  the 
well,  then  it  breaks  .  .  .  the  same  with  me. 
.  .  .  (Kleshtsch  shakes  his  head  and  goes  be- 
hind BUBNOFF.) 

Anna — I  am  always  thinking  to  myself:  My 
Saviour  .  .  .  shall  I  there  too  ...  in 
that  world     .     .     .     endure  such  tortures? 

LuKA — No!  Never!  .  .  .  You  will  sufiEer 
nothing.  Lie  perfectly  still  .  .  .  and  have  no 
fear.  You  shall  find  peace  there!  Be  patient  yet  a 
little  while.  .  .  .  We  must  all  suflEer,  my  love. 
Every  one  endures  life  in  his  own  way. 
{He  rises  and  goes  hastily  into  the  kitchen  R.) 

BuBNOFF — 'Spy  on,  with  the  might  of  your  eyes, 
forever.' 

Krivoi  Zoba — 'On  freedom  still  my  thoughts 
shall  dwell.     .     .     .' 

Together — 'I  cannot  spring  these  chains  and 
locks — a — ach.     .     .     . 

Nor  fly  the  walls  of  this  cold  cell.     .     .     .' 

Tartar — Stop !  He  has  pushed  a  card  up  his 
sleeve. 

Baron — (Confused.)     No,  where  else  then? 

Actor — (Convincingly.)     You  have  made  a  mis- 


54  SUBMERGED 

take,  prince!    It's  not  to  be  thought  of.     .     .     . 

Tartar — I  saw  it!     Cheats!    I  play  no  more! 

Sahtin — {Throiuing  the  cards  together.)  Then 
go  your  way,  Hassan.  .  .  .  You  know  that 
we  are  cheats — so  why  did  you  play  with  us? 

Baron — He's  lost  forty  copecs,  you'd  think  from 
the  row  that  he'd  lost  three  hundred.  And  this  is 
a  prince! 

Tartar — (Violently.)  Everybody  must  play 
fair! 

Sahtin — But  tell  me  why? 

Tartar — What  does  'why'  mean? 

Sahtin — Just  so     .     .     .     why? 

Tartar — Um,  you  don't  know? 

Sahtin — I  don't  know,  do  you? 

Tartar — (Spits  angrily ^  all  laugh  at  him.) 

Krivoi  Zoba — (Cheerfully.)  You  are  a  comi- 
cal owl,  Hassan.  Think  it  over.  If  they  lived 
honestly  they  would  starve  in  three  days.     .     .     . 

Tartar — What's  that  to  me?  People  must  live 
honestly. 

Krivoi  Zoba — Same  old  story,  I'd  rather  have  a 
drink  of  tea     .     .     .     cut  loose,  Bubnoff. 

BuBNOFF — 'Alas,  these  heavy  chains  of  iron,  this 
armed  patrol  on  ceaseless  guard.     .     .     .' 

Krivoi  Zoba — Come,  Hassan.  (Ex.  singing.) 
'No,  nevermore  shall  I  break  through.'  ( The  Tar- 
tar threatens  the  Baron  with  his  fist,  and  then 


ACT  II  55 

follows  his  comrade.    Ex.  R.) 

Sahtin — (To  the  Baron,  laughing.)  Nyah, 
your  worship,  you've  launched  us  triumphantly  into 
the  mire.  You,  an  educated  man,  and  can't  handle 
cards.     .     .     . 

Baron — {Throwing  up  his  hands.)  The  devil 
knows  how  the  cards  should  be  handled. 

Actor — No  genius,  no  self-confidence  .  .  . 
without  that  you'll  never  be  any  good.     .     .     . 

Medviedeff — I  have  a  queen,  and  you  have  two 
hm,  yes. 

BuBNOFF — One  is  enough,  if  well  played  .  .  . 
your  play. 

Kleshtsch — The  game  is  lost,  Abram  Ivanitsch. 

Medviedeff — That  is  none  of  your  business — 
understand?      Hold  your  tongue.     .     .     . 

Sahtin — Fifty-three  copecs  won. 

Actor — The  three  copecs  are  for  me  .  .  . 
though  what  do  I  want  with  three  copecs? 

LuKA — {Entering  from  kitchen  R.)  You  soaked 
the  Tartar  dry.     Are  you  going  for  some? 

Baron — Come  with  us! 

Sahtin — I'd  just  like  to  see  you  after  you've 
put  a  couple  of  dozen  away.     .     .     . 

LuKA — Surely  I  wouldn't  look  better  than  I  do 
sober. 

Actor — Come,  old  fellow  ...  I  will  de- 
claim for  you  a  pair  of  pretty  couplets.     .     .     . 


56  SUBMERGED 

LuKA — Couplets?     What  are  they? 

Actor — Verses,   don't   you   understand.     .     .     . 

LuKA — Verses,  for  me  .  .  .  poems?  What 
do  I  want  them  for? 

Actor — Ah,  they  are  so  comical  .  .  .  yet 
sometimes  so  sad. 

Sahtin — Are  you  coming,  couplet  singer?  {Ex. 
L.  U.  E.  with  the  Baron.) 

Actor — I  will  catch  up  with  you.  {To  Luka.) 
There  is,  old  man,  for  example,  a  poem  beginning. 
.  .  .  I  have  completely  forgotten  it  .  .  . 
{rubs  his  forehead.) 

BuBNOFF — Your  queen  is  lost     ...     go. 

Medviedeff — I  played  wrong,  the  devil  take  it. 

Actor — In  the  past,  while  my  organism  was  not 
as  yet  poisoned  with  alcohol,  I  had  a  splendid  mem- 
ory .  .  .  yes,  patriarch!  Now  .  .  .  it  is 
a^l  up  with  me  .  .  .  time  and  time  again,  with 
the  greatest  success  I  have  recited  this  poem  . 
to  thundering  applause.  .  .  .  Do  you  know 
what  applause  means,  brother?  It  is  the  wine  of 
wines  .  .  .  when  I  came  out,  in  this  posture 
{assumes  an    attitude')     and    then    began     .     .     . 

.  .  {he  is  silent)  .  .  .  not  a  word 
.  .  .  have  I  retained.  And  the  poem  was  my 
heart's  delight.  ...  Is  that  not  frightful, 
patriarch?      {Clutches  the  air.) 

Luka — ^Alas,   too  bad     .     .     .     when  the  best 


ACT  II  57 

beloved   has   been   forgotten.      In   that  which   man 
loves,  he  finds  his  soul.     .     .     . 

Actor — I  have  drowned  my  soul,  patriarch.  .  . 
.  I  am  a  lost  man.  .  .  .  And  why  am  I  lost? 
Because  I  believe  in  myself  no  more.  ...  I 
am  through. 

LuiCA — Why  so,  then.  Be  cured!  The  drunk- 
ard, I  have  heard,  can  now  be  cured.  Without  ex- 
pense, my  brother.  ...  A  dispensary  has  been 
erected  .  .  .  there  you  may  be  cured  without 
charge.  They  realize  now,  you  see,  that  the  drunk- 
ard is  also  a  man,  and  they  are  glad  when  one  comes 
to  allow  himself  to  be  cured.  Hurry,  then,  go 
there.     .     .     . 

Actor — {Thoughtfully.)  Where  to?  Where 
is  it? 

LuKA — In  a  certain  city  .  .  .  what  is  it 
called?  A  strange  name.  .  .  .  No,  I  can't  tell 
you  right  now  .  .  .  but  listen  to  me:  You 
must  begin  to  get  ready!  Be  abstemious!  Hold 
yourself  together,  and  suffer,  endure  thus,  .  .  . 
and  then  you'll  be  cured.  Begin  a  new  life  .  .  . 
is  that  not  splendid,  brother:  a  new  life  .  .  . 
now,  decide     .     .     .     one,  two,  three! 

Actor — (Smiling.)  A  new  life  .  .  .  from 
the  start  .  .  .  that  is  beautiful.  .  .  .  Can 
it  be  true?  A  new  life? — (Laughs.)  Nyah  .  . 
.     yes!    I  can!    I  can! 


58  SUBMERGED 

LuKA — Why  not?  Man  can  achieve  everything 
.     .     .     if  he  only  will.     .     .     . 

Actor — {Suddenly,  as  if  awakened  from  a 
dream.)  You're  a  queer  customer!  So  long!  See 
you  again.  {He  whistles.)  Meantime,  old  man. 
{Ex.  L.  U.  E.) 

Anna — Daddy. 

LuKA — What  is  it,  little  mother? 

Anna — Talk  a  little  bit,  to  me.     .     .     . 

LuKA — {Going  to  her.)  Gladly  .  .  .  Let 
us  have  a  long  chat.  (Kleshtsch  looks  around, 
silently  goes  to  the  bed  of  his  wife,  looks  at  her, 
gesticulates,  as  if  about  to  speak.) 

LuKA — Well,  brother? 

Kleshtsch — {fVhispers  as  if  in  fear.)  Noth- 
ing. {Goes  slowly  to  door,  L.  U.  E.  Remains  a 
few  moments,  then  goes  out.) 

LuKA — {Following  him  ivith  his  eyes.)  Your 
husband  seems  to  be  oppressed. 

Anna — I  cannot  think  of  him  any  more. 

LuKA — Has  he  beaten  you? 

Anna — How  often  .  .  .  He  has  brought 
me     ...     to  this. 

BuBNOFF — My  wife  .  .  .  had  once  an  ad- 
mirer. He  played  with  kings  and  queens  quite 
splendidly,  the  rascal.     .     .     . 

Medviedeff — Hm. 

Anna — Grandfather     .     .     .     Talk  to  me,  my 


ACT  II  59 

dear     ...     I  am  lonely.     .     .     . 

LuKA — That  is  nothing.  That  may  be  felt  be- 
fore death,  my  dove.  It  means  nothing,  dear.  Have 
faith.  You  will  die,  you  see,  and  then  enter  into 
rest.  Have  fear  of  nothing  more,  of  nothing  more. 
It  will  be  still,  and  peaceful  .  .  .  and  you  will 
lie  resting  there.  Death  subdues  everything  .  .  . 
he  is  so  tender  with  us  .  .  .  Only  in  death 
shall  rest  be  found,  they  say  .  .  .  and  such  Is 
the  truth,  my  love!  Where  shall  rest  be  found  here? 

(Pepel  enters  L.  U.  E.  a  little  drunk,  dishev- 
elled and  sullen.  He  sits  on  the  bunk  by  the  kitchen 
door,  silent  and  motionless. ) 

Anna — And  shall  there  be  such  torture  there? 

LuKA — Nothing  is  there!  Believe  me,  nothing! 
Rest  alone — nothing  else.  They  will  lead  you  be- 
fore the  Master  and  will  say:  Look,  oh.  Master — 
thy  servant  Anna  is  come. 

Medviedeff — {Vigorously.)  How  can  you 
know  what  shall  be  said  there :  have  you  ever  heard. 
.  .  .  (Pfpel,  at  the  sound  of  Medviedeff's 
voice,  raises  his  head  and  listens.) 

LuKA — My  information  is  reliable,  Mr.  Com- 
missioner.    .     .     . 

Medviedeff — (Softly.)  Hm, — yes.  Nyah,  it 
is  your  affair  .  .  .  that  means  .  .  .  but 
I  am  not  a  commissioner.     .     .     . 

BuBNOFF — Two  birds  with  one  stone.     .     . 


6o  SUBMERGED 

Medviedeff — Ah,  you,  the  devil  take  you.   .   .   . 

LuKA — And  the  Master  will  look  upon  you  in 
loving  kindness  and  will  say:  'I  know  this  Anna!' 
'Now,'  he  will  say,  'lead  her  forth  into  Paradise. 
May  she  there  find  peace.  ...  I  know  her 
life  was  wearisome  .  .  .  she  is  very  tired  .  .  . 
let  her  have  rest,  our  Anna.' 

Anna — Grandfather  .  .  .  you,  my  dear 
.  .  .  if  only  it  is  so  .  .  .  if  I  there  .  .  . 
find  peace     .     .     .     and  feel  nothing  more.     .     .    . 

LuKA — You  will  suflfer  nothing  .  .  .  noth- 
ing! Only  have  faith!  Die  joyfully,  without  anx- 
iety .  .  .  Death  to  us,  I  say  unto  you,  is  like 
a  mother  soothing  her  children. 

Anna — But  .  .  .  perhaps  ...  I  will 
get  well  again  ? 

LuKA — {Laughing.)  For  what?  To  fresh  tor- 
tures ? 

Anna — But  I  might  still  .  .  .  live  a  little 
while  ...  a  very  little  while  ...  if 
there  is  no  torture  beyond  ...  I  can  afiord  to 
sufFer  at  the  end  here  a  little  more.     .     .     . 

LuKA — There  shall  be  no  more  pain  .  .  . 
none  at  all. 

Pepel — {Rising.)  True — it  may  be,  and  may 
not  be! 

Anna — Ah,  God.     ... 

LuKA — Ah,  my  dear  boy.     .     .     . 


ACT  II  6i 

Medviedeff — W^o  is  howling  there? 

Pepel — {Going  to  him.)  Me,  what's  the  mat- 
ter? 

Medviedeff — People  must  keep  quiet  in  here. 
.     .     .     You  iiave  no  cause  for  howiin^j. 

Pepel — Ah  .  .  .  blockhead!  And  you  her 
uncle     .     .     .     ha,  ha! 

LuKA — {Whispers  to  Pepel.)  Listen,  boy — 
not  so  loud.  A  woman  is  dying  here.  .  .  . 
Her  lips  are  covered  with  earth  already  .  .  . 
don't  disturb  her. 

Pepel — As  you  say  so,  grandfather,  I  will  listen 
to  you.  You  are  a  splendid  chap,  pilgrim  .  .  . 
you  tell  them  famously  .  .  .  you're  full  of 
nice  stories.  Keep  it  up,  brother,  keep  it  up  .  .  . 
there  is  so  little  pleasure  in  the  world. 

BuBNOFF — Is  she  dying  for  keeps? 

LuKA — I  guess  she  is  not  fooling. 

BuBNOFF — Then  we  will  finally  be  rid  of  that 
coughing  ...  a  great  nuisance,  her  everlast- 
ing coughing     ...     I  take  two.     .     .     • 

Medviedeff — Ah,     .     .     .     the  devil  take  you. 

Pepel — Abram.     .     .     . 

Medviedeff — I  am  not  Abram  ...  for 
you. 

Pepel — Abrashka,  tell  me — is  Natasha  still  sick  .■* 

Medviedeff — Does  that  concern  you? 

Pepel — No,  but  say:  did  Wassilissa  really  beat 


62  SUBMERGED 

her  up  so  badly? 

Medviedeff — And  that's  none  of  your  business 
either  .  .  .  that's  a  family  affair  .  .  . 
who  are  you,  anyhow,  eh? 

Pepel — I  may  be  who  I  am — but  when  it  suits 
me,  I  will  take  your  Natasha  away.  You  will  not 
see  her  again. 

Medviedeff — {Interrupting  his  playing.)  What 
do  you  say?  Whom  are  you  talking  about?  My 
niece  shall     .     .     .     ach,  you  thief! 

Pepel — A  thief — that  you  have  not  yet  caught. 

Medviedeff — Wait!  I'll  soon  catch  you  .  . 
.     in  a  very  little  while  I  will  have  you.     .     .     . 

Pepel — Whenever  it  suits  you  .  .  .  and 
then  your  whole  nest  here  will  be  torn  up.  Do 
you  think  I'll  hold  my  tongue  when  it  comes  to 
the  coroner?  There  you're  badly  mistaken.  Who 
incited  you  to  theft,  they  will  ask — who  put  the 
opportunity  before  you?  Mischka  Kostilioff  and 
his  wife.  And  who  received  the  stolen  goods? 
Mischka  Kostiliof?  and  his  wife. 

Medviedeff — You  lie!     Nobody  will  believe  it. 

Pepel — They  will  quickly  believe — because  it  is 
the  truth.  And  I'll  get  you  into  the  muddle  too, 
and  the  rest  of  you,  you  gang  of  thieves — we  shall 
soon  see. 

Medviedeff — {Uneasily.)     Shut  up!     Shut  up! 


ACT  11  63 

What  have  I  done  to  you     .     .     .     you  mad  dog. 

•  •  • 

Pepel — What  good  have  you  done  me? 

LuKA — Quite  right.     .     .     . 

Medviedeff — {To  LuKA.)  What  are  you 
croaking  about?  What  business  is  this  of  yours? 
This  is  a  family  affair. 

BuBNOFF — {To  LuKA.)  Let  them  have  it  out. 
.     .     .     We  two  won't  be  haltered  anyhow.    .    .    . 

LuKA — {Softly.)  I  have  done  no  harm.  I 
only  think  that  if  a  man  does  not  do  another  good 
— then    he  has   done  wrong. 

Medviedeff — {Who  does  not  understand  Lu- 
KA.)  Look,  you.  We  are  all  acquainted  here. 
.  .  .  And  you — who  are  you?  {Ex.  quicklv 
L.    U.  E.  angrily  fuming.) 

LuKA — He  has  gone  mad,  Sir  Cavalier  .  .  . 
oho!  Very  peculiar,  brothers,  what  we  have  here, 
somewhat    complicated. 

Pepel — He  has  gone  to  Wassilissa,  now,  with  it. 

Bubnoff — Don't  make  a  fool  of  yourself,  Was- 
sili.  Don't  try  to  be  the  bravest.  Bravery,  my  boy, 
is  good,  when  you  go  into  the  woods  for  mush- 
rooms. .  .  .  It  is  out  of  place  here  .  .  . 
they  have  j^ou  by  the  throat     ...     in  a  jiffy. 

Pepel — We  shall  see.  .  .  .  We  Yaroslavs 
are  much  too  sly.  ...  we  cannot  be  caught 
with  the  bare  hands     .     .     .     will  you  have  a  fight 


64  SUBMERGED 

.     .     .     good,  then  we  begin  ft.     .     .     . 

LuKA — It  would  indeed,  be  better,  boy,  to  go 
away. 

Pepel — Where   then?     Tell   me.     .     .     . 

LuKA — Go     ...     to  Siberia. 

Pepel — Ha!  Ha!  Never;  I'd  rather  wait  un- 
til they  send  me,  at  the  expense  of  the  govern- 
ment. 

LuKA — No,  really,  listen  to  me!  Go  there;  you 
can  make  your  way  in  Siberia  .  .  .  they  need 
such  young  fellows.     .     . 

Pepel — My  way  is  already  pointed  out!  My 
father  spent  his  life  in  prison,  and  that  fate  is  my 
legacy  .  .  .  when  I  was  still  a  small  boy  they 
called  me  a  thief  and  the  son  of  a  thief. 

LuKA — A  beautiful  country,  Siberia.  A  golden 
land.  A  man  with  strength  and  a  clear  head  de- 
velops there  .  .  .  like  a  cucumber  in  a  hot 
bed. 

Pepel — Tell  me,  pilgrim,  why  do  you  fabricate 
so  ceaselessly? 

LuKA — How? 

Pepel — Are    j-ou    deaf?      Why    do    you    lie,    I 

LuKA — When  have  I  lied? 

Pepel — Right  straight  along.  ...  It  is 
beautiful  there,  by  your  way  of  thinking,  and  beau- 
tiful here     .     .     .     which  is  not  true.     Why  then, 


ACT  II  65 

do  you  lie? 

LuKA — Believe  me !  Or  go  there  and  convince 
yourself.  .  .  .  You  will  send  me  thanks  .  .  . 
.  .  .  why  loiter  here?  And,  from  whence  comes 
your  eagerness  for  truth?  Think  it  over:  the  truth 
is,  they  may  make  an  end  of  you  here. 

Pepel — It  is  all  the  same  .  .  .  even  a  hal- 
ter. 

LuKA — You  are  a  strange  fellow.  Why  will  you 
put  your  head  into  it  ? 

BuBNOFF — What  are  30U  two  jawing  about?  I 
don't  catch  on.  .  .  .  What  kind  of  truth  do 
you  want,  Waska?  What  good  would  it  be  to  you? 
You  know  the  truth  about  yourself  .  .  .  and 
all  the  world  knows  it.     .     .     . 

Pepel — Hold  your  snout.  Don't  croak.  He 
shall  tell  me  first.  .  .  .  hear,  pilgrim  ... 
is  there  a  God?     (Luka  laughs  and  remains  silent.) 

BuBXOFF — Mankind  is  like  chips  which  the 
storm  sweeps  away  ...  the  finished  house  re- 
mains, but  the  chips  are  gone. 

Luka — (Softly.)  If  you  believe  in  him,  there 
is  a  God ;  believe  not  and  none  exists  .  .  . 
What  you  believe  in  ,  .  .  exists  .  .  . 
(Pepel  looks  silently  surprised  at  the  old  man.) 

BuBNOFF — I'll  have  a  drink  of  tea  now  .  .  . 
come  with  me  to  the  ale  house. 

Luka — {To  Pepel.)     What  are  you  staring  at? 


66  SUBMERGED 

Pepel — It  means  then  .  .  .  just  so  .  .  . 
wait. 

BuBNOFF — Nyah,  then  I'll  go  alone.  {Ex.  L. 
U.  E.,  bumping  into  Wassilissa.) 

Pepel — Then  ...  do  as  you  .  .  . 
then  you 

Wassilissa — {To  Bubnoff.)  Is  Nastassia  at 
home? 

Bubnoff — No     .     .     .     (£.v.  L.  U.  E.) 

Pepel — Ah     .     .     .     there  she  is. 

Wassilissa — {Goes  to  Anna's  bed.)  Is  she 
still  alive? 

Luka — Do  not  disturb  her. 

Wassilissa — And  you,  what  are  you  loafing 
around  for? 

Luka — I  can  go  out,  if  I  must.     .     .     . 

Wassilissa — {Approaching  Pepel's  door.)  Was- 
sili!  I  have  business  with  you  .  .  .(Luka  goes 
to  the  door,  L.  U.  E.,  opens  it,  closes  it  noisily,  then 
carefully  climbs  up  the  stove  and  conceals  himself. 
Wassilissa  has  entered  Pepel's  room.  Within.) 
Waska,  come  here. 

Pepel — I   will   not  come     ...     I   will   not. 

Wassilissa — {Re-enters.)  What's  the  matter? 
Why  are  you  so  mad  ? 

Pepel — It  is  tiresome.  ...  I  am  sick  of 
the  whole  mess  here.     .     .     . 


ACT  II  67 

Wassilissa — And  me,  are  you  sick  ...  of 
me,  too? 

Pepel — You  too.  .  .  .  (Wassilissa  pulls 
the  shawl  which  is  over  her  shoulders  closely  to- 
gether and  presses  her  arm  against  her  breast.  She 
goes  to  Anna's  bed,  looks  cautiously  behind  the  cur- 
tain, and  returns  to  Pepel.)  Nyah,  so  .  .  . 
speak.     .     .     . 

Wassilissa — What  shall  I  say?  No  one  can  be 
forced  to  love  .  .  .  and  I  should  be  unlike  my- 
self to  beg  for  love  .  .  .  for  your  frankness 
many   thanks.     .     .     . 

Pepel — My  frankness? 

Wassilissa — Yes,  you  say  you  are  sick  of  me 

.  .  or  is  it  not  true?  (Pepel  looks  at  her  in 
silence.  She  approaches  him.)  Why  do  you  stare? 
Do  you  not  know  me? 

Pepel — (With  a  deep  breath.)  You  are  beau- 
tiful, Waska.  (Wassilissa  puts  her  arm 
around  his  neck :  he  shakes  it  off  ivith  a  movement 
of  the  shoulder.)  But  still  my  heart  has  never  be- 
longed to  you.  ...  I  have  gone  on  living  with 
you     .     .     .     but   I    have   never   truly   liked   you. 

•  •  • 

Wassilissa — (Softly.)  So  .  .  .  o  .  .  . 
now     .     .     .     um.     .     .     . 

Pepel — Now  we  have  nothing  more  to  talk  about. 
.     .     .     Nothing  more     ...     go  away     .     .     . 


68  SUBMERGED 

leave  me  alone. 

Wassilissa — Have  you  found  pleasure  in  anoth- 
er? 

Pepel — That  is  nothing  to  you.  .  .  .  If  it 
were  so — I  would  not  take  you  along  for  a  match- 
maker.    .     .     . 

Wassilissa — (Meaningly.)  Who  knows  .  . 
.     perhaps  I  can  bring  it  about. 

Pepel — (Suspiciously.)      Who  with? 

Wassilissa — You  know  who  I  mean  .  .  . 
don't  deny  it.  ...  I  talk  straight  out  from  the 
shoulder     .     .     .      (Softly.)     I  will  only  say     .     . 

you  have  deeply  wronged  me  .  .  .  without 
provocation  you  have  struck  me  a  blow,  as  with  a 
club     .     .     .     you  always  said  you  loved  me,  and 

.     .     all  of  a  sudden.     .     .     . 

Pepel — All  of  a  sudden  .  .  .  not  at  all.  . 
.  .  I  have  thought  so,  long  .  .  .  you  have 
no  soul.  ...  In  a  woman  there  should  be  a 
soul.  We  men  are  animals  .  .  .  we  know 
nothing  else  .  .  .  and  men  must  first  be 
taught  goodness  .  .  .  and  you,  what  good  have 
you  taught  me?     .     .     . 

Wassilissa — What  has  been  has  been.  .  .  . 
I  know  that  we  cannot  control  the  impulses  of 
our  hearts.  ...  if  you  love  me  no  more — 
good     ...     it  is  all  the  same  to  me. 

Pepel — All  right,  then.     It  is  settled.    We  sep- 


ACT  11  69 

arate  in  friendship,  without  scandal  .... 
pleasantly ! 

Wassilissa — Stop,  not  so  quick.  During  the 
whole  time  that  we  have  lived  together  ...  I 
have  always  hoped  you  would  help  me  out  of  this 
cesspool  here  .  .  .  that  you  would  free  me 
from  my  husband,  from  my  uncle  .  .  .  from 
this  whole  life  .  .  .  and  perhaps  I  have  not 
loved  you,  Waska,  at  all  .  .  .  perhaps  in  you 
I  love  only  .  .  .  my  one  hope,  my  one  dream 
.  .  .  do  you  understand?  I  had  hope^  you 
would  pull  me  out. 

Pepel — You  are  no  nail  and  I  am  no  tongs 
.  .  .  I  had  thought  you  would  finish  him;  with 
your  slyness  .  .  .  for  you  are  sly  and  quick- 
witted    .     .     .      (Sits  at  R.  table.) 

Wassilissa — (Leans  towards  him).  Waska,  we 
will  help  each  other.     .     .     . 

Pepel — How  then? 

Wassilissa — (In  a  low  tone,  luith  expression.) 
My  sister  .  .  .  you  have  taken  a  fancy  to  her, 
I  know  it.     .     .     . 

Pepel — And  you  knock  her  about  so  brutally  on 
that  account.  I'll  say  this  to  you,  Waska:  don't 
touch  her  again. 

Wassilissa — Wait.  Not  so  hotly.  It  can  all 
be  done  quietly,  in  friendliness.  .  .  .  Marry 
her  whenever  you  feel  like  it.     I'll  find  the  money, 


70  SUBMERGED 

three  hundred  rubles.     If  I  can  get  more  I'll  give 
you  more. 

Pepel — {Rocks  on  his  seat  back  and  forth.) 
Hold  on  .  .  .  How  do  you  mean  that.  What 
for? 

Wassilissa — Free  me  from  my  husband.  Take 
that  halter  from  my  neck.     .     .     . 

Pepel — (Whistles.)  Oho,  I  se-e!  You  have 
thought  it  out  well  .  .  .  the  husband  in  his 
grave,  the  admirer  in  Siberia,  and  you  yourself.  .  .  . 

Wassilissa — But  Waska,  why  Siberia?  Not 
you  yourself  .  .  .  your  comrades.  And  even 
if  you  did  do  it  yourself — who  would  know?  Think 
.  Natasha  thine.  .  .  .  You  shall  have 
money  ...  to  go  away  .  .  .  anywhere 
.  .  .  you  free  me  forever  .  .  .  and  for  my 
sister  too;  it  will  be  a  good  thing  for  her  to  be 
away  from  me.  I  can't  look  at  her  without  getting 
furious.  ...  I  hate  her  on  your  account  .  .  . 
I  cannot  control  mj^self  ...  I  give  her  such 
blows  that  I  myself  cry  for  pity  .  .  .  but — I 
strike  her  just  the  same.    And  I  will  go  on  with  it. 

Pepel — Beast!  Don't  sing  praises  of  your  own 
cruelty. 

Wassilissa — I  am  not  praising  myself.  I  only 
speak  the  truth.  Remember,  Waska,  you  have  al- 
ready been  imprisoned  twice  by  my  husband  .  .  . 
when  you  could  not  satisfy  his  greed.     .     .     .     He 


ACT  II  71 

sticks  to  me  like  vermin  ...  for  four  years  he 
has  fed  on  me.  Such  a  man  for  a  husband!  And 
Natasha  dreads  him  too.  He  oppresses  her  and 
calls  her  a  beggar.  He  is  a  poison,  a  rank  poison 
for  us  all.     .     .     . 

Pepel — How  cleverly  you  contrive  it  all.    .     .    . 

Wassilissa — What  I  have  said  is  not  contrived 
.  .  .  It  is  quite  clear  to  you.  .  .  .  Only  a 
fool  could  not  comprehend.  .  .  .  (KOSTILIOFF 
enters  warily,  L.   U.  E.,  and  sneaks  forward.) 

Pepel — {To  Wassilissa.)  No  ...  go 
away ! 

Wassilissa — Think  it  over.  {Sees  her  hus- 
band.) What's  this!  Dogging  me  again?  (Pepel 
springs  up  and  looks  wildly  at  KoSTlLlOFF.) 

KoSTiLiOFF — Indeed  .  .  .  it  is  I  .  .  . 
it  is  I  .  .  .  and  you  are  quite  alone  here?  Ah 
.  .  .  ah  .  .  .  Been  chatting  for  a  spell? 
(Suddenly  stamps  his  feet  and  screeches  aloud,  to 
Wassilissa.)  Waska,  you  baggage  .  .  .  you 
beggar,  you  deceptive  carrion.  {Then  frightened 
by  his  own  cry  which  is  answered  only  by  an  echo- 
less  silence.)  Have  mercy  on  me,  Lord  .  .  . 
You  have  again  led  me  to  sin,  Wassilissa  .  .  . 
I  search  for  you  everywhere  .  .  .  {Squeaking- 
ly.)  It  is  time  to  go  to  bed.  Have  you  forgot  to 
fill  the  holy  lamp?  ...  ah,  you  beggar,  you 
swine!     {IVaves  his  hands  tremblingly  in  her  face. 


72  SUBMERGED 

Wassilissa  goes  slowly  to  the  door,  L.  U.  E.,  and 
looks  back  at  Pepel.) 

Pepel — (To  KosTiLiOFF.)  You !  Go  your  own 
way.     Get  out,     .     .     . 

KosTiLiOFF — (Cries.)  I  am  the  master  here: 
Get  out  yourself,  understand?  Thief! 

Pepel — (Sternly.)  Go  your  own  way,  Mish- 
ka, 

KosTiLiOFF — Be  careful!  Or  else  I'll  .  .  . 
(Pepel  seizes  hi?n  by  the  collar  and  shakes  him.  A 
noise  of  turning  and  yawning  is  heard  on  the  stove. 
Pepel  loosens  Kostilioff,  who,  crying  loudly, 
goes  out  R.  U.  E.  up  the  stairs.) 

Pepel — (Jumps  on  bunk  before  stove.)  Who  is 
there  ?    Who  is  on  the  stove  ? 

LuKA — (Poking  his  head  out.)     What? 

Pepel — Is  it  you? 

LuKA — (Composedly.)  I  ...  I  myself 
.  .  .  Who  else  would  it  be?  .  .  .  Ah,  my 
God! 

Pepel — (Closes  door  L.  U.  E.,  looks  for  key, 
but  does  not  find  it.)  The  devil  .  .  .  crawl 
down,  pilgrim. 

LuKA — All  right     .     .     .     I'll  crawl  down.  .  .  . 

Pepel — (Roughly.)  Why  did  you  climb  up  on 
the  stove? 

LuKA — Where  should  I  go? 

Pepel — Why  didn't  you  go  out  into  the  entry? 


ACT  II  7j 

LuKA — Too  cold,  little  brother  ...  I  am 
an  old  man.     .     .     . 

Pepel — Did  you  hear? 

LuKA — Without  any  trouble.  Why  not?  I  am 
not  deaf.     Ah,  my  boy,  you  are  lucky,  truly  lucky. 

Pepel — {Mistrustfully.)     I  am  lucky?  How  so? 

LuKA — Because  ...  I  climbed  up  on  the 
stove     .     .     .     that  was  your  luck.     .     .     . 

Pepel — Why  did  you  move  about? 

LuKA — Because  I  feel  hot  .  .  .  luckily  for 
you,  my  orphan  .  .  .  and  then  I  thought:  if 
the  boy  does  not  lose  his  head  .  .  .  and  stran- 
gle the  old  man.     .     .     . 

Pepel — Yes,  I  might  easily  have  done  it  .  .  . 
I  hate  him.     .     .     . 

LuKA — It  would  not  have  been  any  wonder 
.     such  things  happen  every  day. 

Pepel — {Laughing.)  Mm.  .  .  .  Have  you 
yourself  not  done  something  of  the  kind  some  time  ? 

LuKA — Listen,  my  boy,  to  what  I  tell  you:  this 
woman,  keep  well  away  from  her.  At  no  cost  let 
her  approach  .  .  ,  She  will  soon  get  her  hus- 
band out  of  the  way  more  cleverly  than  you  could 
ever  manage  it.  Don't  listen  to  her,  this  offspring 
of  Satan !  Look  at  me :  not  a  hair  left  on  my  head 
.  .  .  and  why?  The  women,  and  no  other  rea- 
son. ...  I  have  known,  perhaps,  more  wo- 
men  than   I   have  had  hairs  on   my  head     .     .     . 


74  SUBMERGED 

and  this  Wassilissa  ...  is  worse  than  the 
pest. 

Pepel — I  don't  know  .  .  .  whether  to 
thank  you     ...     or,  are  you  too.     .     .     . 

LuKA — Say  no  more  .  .  .  Listen.  If  there 
is  a  girl,  take  the  one  you  like  best — take  her  by  the 
hand  and  go  away  together ;  quite  away,  a  long  way 
off. 

Pepel — (Gloomily.)  We  cannot  know  each 
other:  who  is  good,  who  is  bad.  .  .  .  Nothing 
certain  is  known  to  us.     .     .     . 

LuKA — Of  what  importance  can  that  be?  Man's 
ways  vary  .  .  .  following  the  difFerent  desires 
of  his  heart ;  so  he  lives,  good  today,  bad  tomorrow. 
And  if  you  love  the  girl,  then  pull  out,  settle  it. 
Or  go  alone.  You  are  young,  you  have  still  time 
enough  to  be  enmeshed  by  a  woman. 

Pepel — (Takes  him  by  the  shoulder.)  No,  but 
say — why  do  you  tell  me  all  this.     .     .     . 

LuKA — Hold  on.  Let  me  go  ...  I  must 
look  after  Anna.  .  .  .  Her  throat  is  rattling. 
(He  goes  to  Anna's  bed,  strikes  the  curtain  back, 
looks  at  the  prostrate  form  and  touches  it  with  his 
hand.  Pepel^  uneasy  and  depressed,  follows  hi?ti.) 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  All  Powerful!  receive  in  peace 
the  soul  of  this  newcomer,  thy  servant  Anna.    .    .    . 

Pepel — (Whispers.)  Is  she  dead?  (Elevates 
himself   to    his   full   height   and   looks  ivithout   ap- 


ACT  II  75 

proaching.) 

LuKA — {Whispering.)  Her  misery  is  ended. 
And  where  is  her  husband? 

Pep  EL — In  the  barroom — of  course. 

LuKA — He  must  be  told.     .     .     . 

Pepel — {Shrinking.)     I  do  not  love  the  dead. 

LuKA — {Goes  to  the  door,  L.  U.  E.)  Why 
should  we  love  the  dead  ?  We  must  love  the  living 
.     .     .     the  living.     .     .     . 

Pepel — I'll  go  with  you. 

LuKA — Are  you  afraid? 

Pepel — I  love  them  not.  .  .  .  {Ex.  hastily, 
u'ith  LuKA^  L.  U.  E.  The  stage  remains  empty 
for  a  few  moments.  Behind  the  door,  L.  U.  E.,  is 
heard  a  dull,  confused,  unusual  sound.  Enter  the 
Actor,  L.  U.  E.  He  remains  standing  on  the 
platform,  his  hand  on  the  door  jamb,  and  cries.) 

Actor — Old  man!  Luka!  Heh,  where  do  you 
hide?  Now  I  remember.  Listen.  {Tremblingly 
takes  two  steps  forward,  puts  himself  in  an  attitude 
and  declaims.) 

And  if  humanity  to  holy  truth. 
No  path  by  searching  finds, 

Then  all  the  world   shall  praise  the   fool, 
Who  spins  a  dream  to  mesh  their  minds. 

(Natasha  appears  behind  the  Actor  in  the 
door.     He  continues.)      Old  man     .     .     .     listen! 

And   if  the  sun  tomorrow  shall  forget 


76  SUBMERGED 

Upon  the  earth  his  light  to  stream, 

Then  all  the  world  shall  hail  the  fool, 
With    his    illuminating    red-gold    dream. 

Natasha — (Laughs.)  Look  at  the  scarecrow. 
Maybe  he  has  had  one  or  two.     .     .     . 

Actor — {Turns  to  her.)  A-ah,  it  is  you!  And 
where  is  our  patriarch?  Our  loving,  kind-hearted 
pilgrim.  .  .  .  There  is  nobody  ...  at 
home.     .     .     .     Natasha,   farewell,   farewell. 

Natasha — {Approaches  him.)  You  have  just 
greeted  me,  and  now  you  say  farewell. 

Actor — {Steps  in  her  way.)  I  shall  go.  .  .  . 
I  shall  travel  .  .  .  when,  soon  as  spring  comes, 
I  shall  be  far  away. 

Natasha — Let  me  by.  .  .  .  Where  shall 
you  travel  then? 

Actor — I  shall  go  to  that  city  ...  I  shall 
be  cured.  .  .  .  You  must  leave  here,  too  . 
.     .     Ophelia     .     .     .     get  thee  to  a  nunnery. 

.  There  is,  you  know,  a  hospital  for  organisms 
.  .  .  for  hard  drinkers,  so  to  speak  ...  a 
splendid  hospital  ...  all  marble  .  .  . 
marble  floors  .  .  .  light  .  .  .  cleanliness 
.  .  .  good  board — all  free  of  charge!  And 
marble  floors,  truly.  I  shall  find  it,  this  city, 
I'll  be  myself  again.  .  .  .  Begin  a  new  life. 
I  am  on  the  way  to  regeneration  .  .  . 
as  King  Lear  said !      Do  you   know  too,   Natasha 


ACT  II  77 

what  my  stage  name  is?  Svertchkoff- 
Savolszhinski  I'm  called  .  .  .  nobody  knows 
that  here,  nobody  .  .  .  here  I  am  nameless 
.  .  .  realize,  if  you  can,  how  it  hurts  to  lose 
your  name?  Even  dogs  have  their  names.  (Nat- 
asha goes  softly  past  the  AcTOR,  stands  at  Anna's 
bed  and  looks  at  the  dead  body.)  Without  a  name 
.     .     .     where  there  is  no  name  there  is  no  man. 

Natasha — Look!     .     .     .     dear      .    .    .    why 

.     .     .     she  is  dead.     .     .     . 

Actor — {shaking  his  head.)     Impossible.     .     .     . 

Natasha — (Stands    aside.)       In    God's    name 
look. 

BuBNOFF — (Enters  L.  U.  E.)  What  is  there 
to  look  at? 

Natasha — Anna  is  dead! 

BuBNOFF — Then  there  will  be  no  more  cough- 
ing. (Goes  to  Anna's  bed,  looks  for  a  time  at  the 
dead  body  and  then  goes  to  his  place.)  Somebody 
must  tell  Kleshtsch     .     .     .     it's  his  business.     .     . 

Actor — I'll  go.  I  shall  tell  him  .  .  .  She 
too,  has  lost  her  name. 

Natasha — (Ex.  Actor  L.  U.  E.  In  the  centre 
of  the  room,  to  herself  partly.)  And  I  .  .  .  . 
some  time,  shall  languish  so,  and  die  forsaken  in  a 
cellar. 

BuBNOFF — (Spreading  out  an  old  torn  blanket 
on  his  shelf.)   What  is  the  matter     .     ,     ,     what. 


78  SUBMERGED 

are  you  muttering? 

Natasha — Nothing  .  .  .  only  to  my- 
self.    .     .     . 

BuBNOFF — Are  you  expecting  Waska?  Be  care- 
ful with  Waska.  .  .  .  He  will  knock  your 
skull   in,  some  day,   for  you.     .     .     . 

Natasha — Isn't  it  all  the  same  to  me,  who 
knocks  it  in?    I'd  rather  have  it  done  by  him.   .   .   . 

BuBNOFF — (Lies  down.)  As  j^ou  prefer  .  .  . 
no  funeral  of  mine. 

Natasha — It  is  the  best  thing  for  her  that  could 
happen  .  .  .  to  die  .  .  .  yet  it  is  pitiful 
.  .  .  thou  loving  Master  .  .  .  what  did 
she  live  for? 

BuBNOFF — So  with  everybody — but,  we  live. 
Man  is  born,  lives  for  a  space  of  time,  and  dies.  I 
will  die  too  .  .  .  and  you  will  die  .  .  . 
why  pity  the  dead,  then?  (LuKA,  the  Tartar, 
Krivoi  Zoba  and  Kleshtsch  enter  L.  U.  E. 
Kleshtsch  folloivs  behind  the  others  in  shaking 
spirits. ) 

Natasha — Sh-sh     .     .     .     Anna! 

Krivoi  Zoba — We  have  already  heard  .  .  . 
God  take  her  soul.     .     .     . 

Tartar — {To  Kleshtsch.)  She  must  be  tak- 
en out.  She  must  be  carried  into  the  entry.  This 
is  no  place  for  the  dead.  The  living  person  can 
have  a  bed.     ... 


ACT  II  79 

Kleshtsch — {Whispering.)     We  will  take  her 
out.     .     .     .      {All     stand      around     the      body. 
Kleshtsch  looks  at  the  remains  of  his  wife  over  the 
shoulders  of  the  others.) 

Krivoi  Zoba — {To  the  Tartar.)  Do  j'ou 
think  she  will  smell?  No  .  .  .  while  she  was 
still  alive  she  dried  up. 

Natasha — For  God's  sake  .  .  .  nobody 
pities  her  ...  if  anybody  had  but  said  a  word 
of  kindness. 

Luka — Don't  be  hurt,  my  daughter.  It  it  noth- 
ing. What  have  we  to  do  with  pitying  the  dead? 
We  have  not  enough  for  each  other.  And  you  talk 
of  pitying  her. 

BuBNOFF — {Gapes.)     Why  waste  words    .     .    . 
when  she  is  dead — no  words  can  help  her  any  more 
.     against  sickness  certain  words  can  be  used 
.     .     .     against  death,  nothing. 

Tartar — {Stepping  aside.)  The  police  must 
be  told.     .     .     . 

Krivoi  Zoba — Naturally — that  is  the  regulation. 
Kleshtsch,  have  you  already  reported  it? 

Kleshtsch — No  .  .  .  now  comes  the  fu- 
neral  and  I  have  only  forty  copecs  in  the  world. 

Krivoi  Zoba — Then  borrow  ...  or  we 
will  take  up  a  collection  .  .  .  everybody  give 
what  he  can,  one  five  copecs,  another  ten     .     .     . 


8o  SUBMERGED 

but  the  police  must  soon  be  told.  Or  else,  at  last, 
they  will  think  you  have  beaten  your  wife  to  death 
.  .  .  or  something  else.  {Goes  to  the  bunk,  U. 
on  which  the  Tartar  is  lying,  and  attempts  to  lie 
down  with   him.) 

Natasha — {Goes  to  Bubnoff's  bench.)  Now 
I  shall  dream  about  her  ...  I  always  dream 
of  the  dead.  ...  I  am  afraid  to  be  alone. 
.     .     .     It  is  so  dark  in  the  entry. 

LuKA — {Folloivs  li'ith  his  eyes.)  Be  afraid  of 
the  living    .    .    .    that  is  what  I  say  to  you.    .    .    . 

Natasha — Take  me  up-stairs,  daddy.     .     .     . 

LuKA — Come  .  .  .  come  ...  I  will  go 
with  )'0u.     {Ex.  both  L.  U.  E.     Pause.) 

Krivoi  Zoba — {Yawns.)  Oh,  oh!  {To  the 
Tartar.)  It  will  soon  be  spring  now,  Hassan. 
.  Then  there  will  be  a  little  bit  of  sun  for 
you  and  me.  The  peasants  now  are  repairing  their 
plows  and  harrows  .  .  .  they  will  go  to  the 
field  soon  .  .  .  hm — yes  .  .  .  and  we, 
Hassan.  He  is  already  snoring,  cursed  Moham- 
medan. 

BuBNOFF — The  Tartars  are  fond  of  sleep. 

Kleshtsch — {Standing  in  the  middle  of  the 
room  staring  stupidily  before  himself.)  What  shall 
I  begin  to  do  now? 

Krivoi  Zoba — Lie  down  and  sleep  .  .  . 
that's  all.     .     .     . 


ACT  II  8i 

Kleshtsch — {Whispers.)  And  .  .  .  she! 
What  shall  be  done  with  her?  {Nobody  answers 
him.       Enter  Sahtin  and  the  AcTOR,  L.   U.  E.) 

Actor — {Cries.)     Old  man!     My  true  adviser. 

Sahtin — Miklucka-Maclai  comes  ...  ho, 
ho! 

Actor — The  thing  is  settled !  Patriarch,  where 
is  the  city     .     .     .     where  are  you  ? 

Sahtin — Fata  Morgana!  He  has  deluded  you 
.  .  .  there  are  no  cities  .  .  .  No,  no  peo- 
ple    .     .     .     there  is  nothing  at  all! 

Actor — Liar.     .     .     . 

Tartar — {Springing  up.)  Where  is  the  pro- 
prietor? I'll  see  the  proprietor!  If  we  can't  sleep 
here,  he  shall  charge  us  nothing  .  .  .  the  dead 
.  .  .  the  drunken.  .  .  .  {Ex.  quickly,  R. 
U.  E.     Sahtin  whistles  after  him.) 

BuBNOFF — {Awakened.)  Go  to  bed  brats,  make 
no  noise,  the  night  is  for  sleep. 

Actor — True  ...  I  have  here  {rubs  his 
forehead.)  'Our  nets  have  caught  the  dead,'  as  it 
says   in   a     .     .     .     chanson,    from   Beranger.* 

Sahtin — The  dead  hear  not.    T!ie  dead  feel  not. 
Howl     .     .     .     shout  as  much  as  you  like 
the  dead  hear  not!      (Luka  appears  in  the  door.) 


*In  reality  a  quotation  from  Pushkin. 


ACT  III* 

*TRANSLATOR'S  NOTE:  In  the  Russian,  the 
third  act  takes  place  upon  a  new  scene,  but  as  the 
scene  of  the  previous  acts  may  be  employed  without 
necessitating  any  change  in  dialogue  or  construction, 
the  stage  directions  given  in  this  act  have  the  old 
scene  in  view.  The  new  scene  is  described  as  fol- 
lows: 

A  vacant  place  between  two  buildings,  filled  with 
rubbish  and  overgrozvn  with  zveeds.  In  the  back- 
ground, a  high  brick  fire-zvall,  which  covers  the 
heavens.  Near  it  a  small  elder-tree.  On  the  right, 
a  dark  wall  of  reinforced  wooden  beams,  part  of  a 
barn  or  stable.  On  the  left,  the  gray  wall  of  Kos- 
tilioff's  lodging-house,  its  rough  plaster  adhering 
only  in  places.  This  zvall  runs  diagonally,  the  rear 
wall  of  the  building,  the  corner  being  about  the 
middle  of  the  scene,  forming  with  the  fire-wall  a 
narrow  passageway.  In  the  gray  wall  there  are  two 
windows,  one  on  a  level  with  the  earth,  the  other 
four  or  five  feet  higher  and  nearer  the  rear.  Against 
the  gray  wall  lies  a  great  sled,  overturned,  with  a 
beam  about  three  yards  long.  Near  the  stable  wall 
on  the  right  is  a  heap  of  old  boards  and  hewn  beams. 

82 


ACT  III  83 

//  is  evening,  the  setting  sun  throws  a  red  light 
against  the  fire-wall.  Spring  has  just  begun  and  the 
snow  is  scarcely  melted.  The  black  twigs  of  the  eld- 
er-tree have  not  begun  to  siuell. 

On  the  beam,  side  by  side  sit  Natasha  and  Nas- 
TIAH.  On  the  pile  of  boards  LuKA  and  the  Baron. 
Kleshtsch  lies  on  a  heap  of  wood  near  the  right 
wall.  BuBNOFF  is  looking  out  of  the  lower  win- 
dow. 

Nastiah — {M^ith  closed  eyes,  moving  her  head 
in  time  to  the  story,  which  she  is  telling  in  a  sing 
song  voice.)  In  the  night,  then,  he  came  to  the  gar- 
den, to  the  summer-bower,  as  we  had  arranged 
I  had  waited  long,  trembling  for  fear  and 
grief  .  .  .  and  he  too,  was  trembling  from 
head  to  foot,  and  chalk  white,  but  in  his  hand  he 
held  a     .     .     .     pistol. 

Natasha — {Nibbling  at  sunfloiuer  seeds.)  Just 
listen  .  .  .  these  students  are  all  as  mad  as 
March  hares. 

Nastiah — And  in  a  terrible  voice,  he  said  to  me : 
my  true  love. 

BuBNOFF — Ha,  ha,  my  'true'  love,  did  he  say? 

Baron — Be  still  there,  let  her  humbug  in  peace 
— you  don't  have  to  listen,  if  it  don't  please  you 
.     .     .     go  on. 

Nastiah — My  heart's  distraction,  said  he,  my 
golden   treasure;   my   parents   refuse   to   allow   me, 


84  SUBMERGED 

said  he,  to  marry  you,  and  threaten  me  with  their 
curses  if  I  do  not  give  you  up,  and  so  I  must,  said 
he,  take  my  life  .  .  .  and  his  pistol  was  fright- 
fully large,  and  loaded  with  ten  bullets.  .  .  . 
Farewell,  said  he,  true  friend  of  my  heart!  My  de- 
cision is  irrevocable  ...  I  cannot  live  without 
you.  But  I  answered  him,  my  never-to-be-forgotten 
friend     .     .     .     my   Raoul. 

BuBNOFF — (Astonished.)  What's  his  name 
.     .     .     Graul? 

Baron — You  are  mistaken,  Nastya!  The  last 
time  you  called   him  Gaston. 

Nastiah — (Springing  up.)  Silence!  You  vag- 
abond curs!  Can  you  understand  what  love  is 
.  .  .  real,  genuine  love!  And  I  ...  I 
have  tasted  this  genuine  love.  (To  the  Baron.) 
You  unworthy  scamp  .  .  .  You  were  an  edu- 
cated man  .  .  .  you  say,  have  drunk  your  cof- 
fee in  bed. 

LuKA — Have  patience!  Don't  scold  her!  Show 
human  beings  some  consideration.  ...  It  is 
not  what  man  says  but  why  he  says  it, — that's  the 
point.  Keep  on,  my  love — they  don't  mean  any- 
thing. 

BuBNOFF — Always  laying  on  the  bright  hues, 
raven     .     .     .     Nyah,  cut  loose  again! 

Baron — Go  on. 

Natasha — Pay    no    attention    to    them     .     .     . 


ACT  III  85 

who  are  they,  any  way?  They  only  speak  out  of 
envy  .  .  .  because  they  have  nothing  to  tell 
about  themselves     .     . 

Nastiah — {Sits  down  again.)  I  don't  want  to 
.  .  .  I  won't  tell  anything  more  ...  if 
they  don't  like  to  believe  it  .  .  .  and  laugh 
about  it.  {Suddenly  brightens  up.  Is  silent  a  few 
seconds,  closes  her  eyes  again  and  begins  in  a  loud 
and  rapid  voice,  keeping  time  ivith  her  hand,  while 
in  the  distance  ringing  music  is  heard.)  And  I  an- 
sv/ered  him:  Joy  of  my  life!  O  my  glittering  star! 
Without  you,  I  too,  could  not  live  ...  be- 
cause I  love  you  madly  and  must  love  you  always, 
as  long  as  my  heart  beats  in  my  bosom!  But,  said 
1,  rob  5'ourself  not  of  your  young  life  .  .  .  for 
look,  your  dear  parents  whose  single  joy  you  are — 
they  stand  in  need  of  you.  Give  me  up  ...  I 
would  rather  pine  away  .  .  .  out  of  longing 
for  3'ou,  my  love  ...  I  am — alone  ...  I  am 
— wholly  yours  .  .  .  yes,  let  me  die  .  .  . 
what  matters  it  ...  I  am  good  for  nothing 
and  have  nothing  .  .  ,  absolutely 
nothing  .  .  .  {Covers  her  face  with  her  hands 
and  cries  softly.) 

Natasha — {Goes  to  her  side,  quietly.)  Don't 
(LuKA  strokes  Nastiah's  head,  laughing.) 

BuBNOFF — {Laughs  aloud.)  Oh  ...  ho 
.     .     .     a  deceiving  minx,     ...     eh? 


86  SUBMERGED 

Baron — {Laughs  aloud.)  Now — grandfather 
— do  you  believe  what  she  tells?  She  gets  it  all  out 
of  her  book  ,  .  .  out  of  'Disastrous  Love,'  all 
nonsense.     Drop  it. 

Natasha — What  is  that  to  you?  You'd  better 
keep  still.     God  has  punished  you  enough.     .     .     . 

Nastiah — (Furious.)  You!  Tell  us,  where  is 
your  soul ! 

Luka — {Takes  her  by  the  hand.)  Come  my 
love.  Do  not  be  angry  .  .  .  They  mean  noth- 
ing, I  know  .  .  .  I — believe  you.  You  are 
right,  and  not  they  ...  if  you  yourself  be- 
lieve it,  then  you  have  had  just  such  true  love 
.  .  .  Certainly,  quite  certainly.  And  he  there, 
your  lover,  don't  be  angry.  .  .  He  only  laughs 
perhaps  .  .  .  about  it  .  .  .  because  he  is 
envious  .  .  .  No  doubt  in  his  whole  life  he 
never  felt  anything  genuine  .  .  .  No,  certain- 
ly, not.     Come! 

Nastiah — {Presses  her  arm  against  her 
breast.)  Grandfather.  Before  God  .  .  .  it  is 
true!  It  is  all  true.  ...  A  French  student 
.  .  .  Gastoscha  was  his  name  .  .  .  and  he 
had  a  little  black  beard  ...  he  always  wore 
patent  leather  shoes.  .  .  .  May  lightning 
strike  me  instantly  if  it  isn't  true!  And  how  he 
loved  me     ...     oh,  how  he  loved  me. 

Luka — I  am  sure.    Say  no  more.    I  believe  you. 


ACT  III  87 

He  wore  patent  leather  shoes,  you  say?  Aye,  aye, 
and  you  have  naturally  loved  him  too.  {Ex.  both 
L.  U.  E.) 

Baron — A  stupid  thing,  good  hearted  but  stu- 
pid,   intolerably   stupid. 

BuBNOFF — How  can  a  man  lie  so  unceasingly? 
Just  like  before  a  coroner. 

Natasha — Falsehood  must  indeed  be  pleasanter 
than  the  truth     .     .     .     I     .     .     .     too. 

Baron — What  'I   too?'     Say  more. 

Natasha — I  too,  think  of  lots  of  them  .  .  . 
to  myself     .     .     .     and  wait.     .     .     . 

Baron — For  what? 

Natasha — {Laughing  embarassed.)  Just  so 
.  .  .  perhaps,  think  I  .  .  .  somebody  will 
come  tomorrow  .  .  .  some  strange  person 
or  there  may  happen  .  .  .  something 
that  never  happened  before.  ...  I  have  al- 
ready waited  long  ...  I  still  am  waiting 
.  .  .  and  after  all  .  .  .  to  look  at  it  right 
.     .     .     can  anything  great  be  expected?     {Pause.) 

Baron — {Laughing.)  We  can  expect  nothing  at 
all.  ...  I  least  of  all — I  expect  nothing  more. 
For  me  everything  has  already  been.  All  is  past 
.     .     .     at  an  end     .     .     .     what  more? 

Natasha — Sometimes,   too,   I   imagine,   that  to- 
morrow    ...     I     will     die     suddenly     .     . 
which  fills  me  with  fear.     ...     In  summer  we 


88  SUBMERGED 

think  willingly  of  death  .  .  .  then  comes  the 
storm,  and  every  moment  one  may  be  struck  by 
lightning.     .     .     . 

Baron — Your  life  has  not  been  laid  in  easy  lines. 
.     .     .     Your  sister  has  the  disposition  of  a  fiend. 

Natasha — Whose  life  is  easy?  All  have  it 
hard,  as  far  as  I  can  see. 

Kleshtsch — {Who  has  previously  lain  silent 
and  motionless,  springing  up.)  All?  That  is  not 
true!  Not  all!  If  it  w^as  hard  for  all  .  .  . 
then  each  of  us  could  stand  it  .  .  .  there 
would  be  nothing  to  complain  about. 

BuBNOFF — Say,  are  you  possessed  by  the  devil? 
Why  howl?  (Kleshtsch  lies  down  again  and 
stares  vacantly.) 

Baron — I  must  see  what  Nastya  is  doing  .  .  . 
I'll  have  to  make  up  with  her  ...  or  we  shall 
have  no  more  money  for  whiskey. 

BuBNOFF — People  can  never  stop  lying!  I  can 
understand  Nastyka ;  she  is  accustomed  to  painting 
her  cheeks.  ...  So  she  tries  it  with  the  soul 
•  .  .  paints  her  little  soul  red  .  .  .  but  the 
rest,  why  do  they  do  it?  Luka,  for  example 
.  .  .  turns  everything  into  stories  .  .  . 
without  ceremony  .  .  .  why  does  he  always 
lie?     .     .     .     at  his  age?     .     .     . 

Baron — {Goes  L.  U.  E.  laughing.)  All  of  us 
have  gray  souls.     .     .     .     We  like  to  lay  on  a  bit 


ACT  III  89 

of  red. 

LuKA — {Enters  from  L.  U.  E.)  Tell  me,  Bar- 
on why  do  you  torment  the  girl.  Let  her  alone. 
Can't  she  cry  to  pass  the  time  away  .  .  . 
she  only  sheds  tears  for  pleasure  .  .  .  what 
harm  can  that  do  you  ? 

Baron — She  is  a  soft-brained  thing,  pilgrim 
.  .  It's  hard  to  swallow  .  .  .  today 
Raoul,  tomorrow  Gaston  .  .  .  and  everlast- 
ingly one  and  the  same.  But  anyway,  I'll  make  up 
with  her  again.     {Ex.  L.  U.  E.) 

LuKA — Go,  treat  her  with  friendliness  .  .  . 
treat  every  one  with  friendliness — injure  no  one. 

Natasha — How  good  you  are,  grandfather 
how  is  it  that  you  are  so  good? 

LuKA — I  am  good,  you  say.  Nyah  ...  if 
it  is  true,  all  right.  .  ,  .  {Behind  the  red  wall 
is  heard  soft  singing  and  accordeon  playing.)  But 
you  see,  my  girl — there  must  be  some  one  to  be  good 
.  .  .  We  must  have  pity  on  mankind.  Christ, 
remember  had  pity  for  us  all  and  so  taught  us  to  be 
likewise.  Have  pity  when  there  is  still  time,  be- 
lieve me,  it  is  very  good.  I  was  once,  for  example, 
employed  as  a  watchman,  at  a  country  place  which 
belonged  to  an  engineer,  not  far  from  the  city  of 
Tomsk,  in  Siberia.  The  house  stood  in  the  middle 
of  the  forest,  an  out-of-the-way  location  .  .  , 
and  it  was  winter  and  I  was  all  alone  in  the  country 


90  SUBMERGED 

house.  ...  It  was  beautiful  there  .  .  . 
magnificent!  And  once  ...  I  heard  them 
scrambling  up ! 

Natasha — Thieves ! 

LuKA — Yes.  They  crept  higher  and  I  took  my 
rifle  and  went  outside.  I  looked  up:  two  men 
as  they  were  opening  a  window  and  so  busy 
that  they  did  not  see  anything  of  me  at  all  .  .  . 
I  cried  to  them:  Heh  there  .  .  .  get  out  of 
that  .  .  .  and  would  you  think  it,  they  fell  on 
me  with  a  hand  ax  ...  I  warned  them — 
Halt,  I  cried,  or  else  I  fire  .  .  .  then  I  aimed 
first  at  one  and  then  at  the  other.  They  fell  on 
their  knees  saying,  pardon  us.  I  was  pretty  hot 
.  .  .  on  account  of  the  hand  ax,  you  remember. 
You  devils,  I  cried,  I  told  you  to  clear  out  and  you 
didn't  .  .  .  and  now,  I  said,  one  of  you  go 
into  the  brush  and  get  a  switch.  It  was  done:  And 
now,  I  commanded,  one  of  you  stretch  out  on  the 
ground,  and  the  other  thrash  him  .  .  .  and  so 
they  whipped  each  other  at  my  command.  And 
when  they  had  each  had  a  sound  beating,  they  said 
to  me:  Grandfather,  said  they,  for  the  sake  of  Christ 
give  us  a  piece  of  bread.  We  haven't  a  bite  in  our 
bodies.  These,  my  daughter,  were  the  thieves, 
{Laughs.)  Who  had  fallen  upon  me  with  the 
hand  ax.  Yes  .  .  .  they  were  a  pair  of  splen- 
did   fellows.     ...     I   said    to   them:     If   only 


ACT  III  91 

you  had  asked  for  bread!  Then  they  answered: 
We  had  gotten  past  that  ...  we  had  asked 
and  asked  and  nobody  would  give  us  anything 
.  .  .  endurance  was  worn  out  .  .  .  nyah, 
and  so  they  remained  with  me  the  whole  winter. 
One  of  them,  Stephen  by  name,  liked  to  take  the 
rifle  and  go  into  the  woods  .  .  .  and  the  oth- 
er, Jakoff,  was  constantly  ill,  always  coughing 
.  .  .  the  three  of  us  watched  the  place,  and 
when  spring  came,  they  said  farewell,  grandfather, 
and  went  away — to  Russia.     .     .     . 

Natasha — Were  they  convicts,  escaping? 

LuKA — They  were  .  .  .  fugitives  . 
they  had  left  their  colony  ...  a  pair  of  splen- 
did fellows.  .  .  .  If  I  had  not  had  pity  on 
them — who  knows  what  would  have  happened. 
They  might  have  killed  me.  .  .  .  Then  they 
would  be  taken  to  court  again,  put  in  prison,  sent 
back  to  Siberia  .  .  .  why  all  that?  You  learn 
nothing  good  in  prison,  nor  in  Siberia  .  .  . 
but  a  man,  what  can  he  not  learn.  Man  may  teach 
his  fellowman  something  good  .  .  .  very  sim- 
ply.     (Pause.) 

BuBNOFF — Hm  .  .  .  yes  .  .  .  and  I 
.  .  .  can  never  lie.  Why  should  I  do  it?  Al- 
ways out  with  the  truth,  that  is  my  way  of  think- 
ing, whether  it  pleases  or  not.  Why  trouble  to  be 
considerate  ? 


92  SUBMERGED 

KleshtsCH — {Springing  up,  as  though  stabbed, 
crying.)  What  is  the  truth?  Where  is  the  truth 
— where!  {Beats  with  his  hands  on  his  torn- 
clothes.)  There  is  the  truth — there!  No  work. 
.  .  .  No  strength  ...  in  the  limbs — that 
is  the  truth !  No  shelter  ...  no  shelter. 
.  .  .  It  is  time  to  die,  that  is  your  truth,  curse 
it!  What  is  it  to  me,  this — truth?  Only  let  me 
sigh  in  peace — let  me  sigh.  What  have  I  done? 
Why  the  devil  should  we  have  truth?  Curse  it, 
we  can't  live     .     .     .     that  is  the  truth! 

BuBNOFF — Just  listen  ...  he  is  full  of 
matter.     .     .     . 

LuKA — The  good  Lord  .  .  .  but  say,  my 
friend,  you.     .     .     , 

Kleshtsch — {Trembling  with  excitement.)  I 
have  heard  you  talk  of  the  truth.  You,  pilgrim — 
you  consoling  every  one  .  .  .  and  I  say  to  you: 
I  hate  every  one.  And  this  truth  too,  this  accursed 
truth  ...  do  you  understand?  Mark  you, 
accursed  shall  truth  be.  {Hurries  out,  L.  U.  E., 
looking  back  as  he  goes.) 

LuKA — Ay,  ay,  ay;  but  he  is  out  of  his  head 
.     .     .     and  where  can  he  be  running? 

Natasha — He  rages  away  like  one  gone  mad. 

BuBNOFF — He  laid  it  all  down  in  the  proper 
order  .  .  ,  as  in  a  theatre  .  .  .  the  same 
thing  happens  often     .     .     .     he  is  not  accustomed 


ACT  III  93 

to  life.     .     .     . 

Pepel — {Enters  slowly  L.  U.  £.)  Peace  to  you 
honest  folks!  Nyah,  Luka,  old  devil — telling  more 
stories? 

Luka — You  ought  to  have  seen  just  now,  a  man 
crying  out. 

Pepel — Kleshtsch,  you  mean,  him?  What  is  the 
matter  with  him  now?  He  ran  past  me,  as  if  he 
were  crazy.     ... 

Luka — You  will  run  the  same  way  too,  when 
once  it  gets  into  your  heart. 

Pepel — (Sifs.)  I  can't  endure  him  .  .  . 
he  is  embittered,  and  proud.  (H^  imitates 
Klesthsch.)  'I  am  a  workingman  .  .  .'as 
though  others  were  inferior  to  him  .  .  .  Work 
indeed,  if  it  gives  you  pleasure  .  .  .  but  why 
do  you  need  to  be  so  proud  about  it?  If  you  esti- 
mate men  by  work,  then  a  horse  is  better  than  any 
man.  He  pulls  a  wagon — and  holds  his  mouth 
about  it.  Natasha  ...  are  your  people  at 
home? 

Natasha — They  have  gone  to  the  grave-yard 
.     .     .     and  then  they  were  to  go  to  church. 

Pepel — You're  therefore  at  leisure  ,  .  . 
that  happens  seldom. 

Luka — (Thoughtfully  to  Bubnoff.)  You  say 
— the  truth  .  .  .  but  the  truth  is  not  a  cure 
for  every  ill     .     .     .     you  cannot  always  heal  the 


94  SUBMERGED 

soul  with  truth  ...  for  example,  the  follow- 
ing case:  I  knew  a  man  who  believed  in  the  land 
of  justice. 

BuBNOFF — In  wh-at? 

LuKA — In  the  land  of  justice.  There  must  be, 
said  he,  a  land  of  justice  somewhere  in  the  world 
.  .  .  in  which  unusual  men,  so  to  speak,  must 
live  •  •  .  good  men,  who  respect  each  other, 
who  help  each  other  when  they  can  .  .  .  every- 
thing there  is  good  and  beautiful.  It  is  a  country 
which  every  man  should  seek.  .  .  .  He  was 
poor  and  things  went  bad  with  him  ...  so 
bad,  indeed,  that  soon  nothing  remained  for  him  to 
do  but  to  lie  down  and  die — but  still  he  did  not 
lose  courage.  He  often  laughed  and  said  to  him- 
self: it  makes  no  difference — I  can  bear  it!  A  lit- 
tle longer  j^et  will  I  wait — then  throw  this  life 
aside  and  go  into  the  land  of  justice  ...  it 
was  his  only  pleasure  .  .  .  this  land  of  jus- 
tice.    .     .     . 

Pepel — Yes,  and     .     .     .     Has  he  gone  there? 

BuBNOFF — Where!  Ha,  ha,  ha! 

LuKA — At  that  time  there  was  brought  to  the 
place — the  thing  happened  in  Siberia — an  exile,  a 
man  of  learning  .  .  .  with  books  and  maps  and 
all  sorts  of  arts  .  .  .  And  the  sick  man  spoke 
to  the  sage:  Tell  me,  I  implore  you,  where  lies  the 
land  of  justice,  and  how  can  one  succeed  in  getting 


ACT  III  95 

there.  Then  the  learned  man  opened  his  books  and 
spread  his  maps  out,  and  searched  and  searched,  but 
he  found  the  land  of  justice  nowhere.  Everything 
else  was  correct,  all  countries  were  shown — the 
land  of  justice  alone  did  not  appear. 

Pepel — (Softly.)  No?  Was  it  really  not 
there?      (Bubnoff  laughs.) 

Natasha — What  are  you  laughing  at?  Go  on, 
grandfather. 

LuKA — The  man  would  not  believe  him  .  .  . 
It  must  be  there,  said  he  .  .  .  look  more  close- 
ly! For  all  your  books  and  maps,  said  he,  are  not 
worth  a  whistle  if  the  land  of  justice  is  not  shown 
on  them.  The  learned  man  felt  himself  insulted. 
My  maps,  said  he,  are  absolutely  correct,  and  a  land 
of  justice  nowhere  exists.  So,  the  other  was  furious. 
What,  he  cried — have  I  now  lived  and  lived  and 
lived,  endured  and  endured,  and  alwaj's  believed 
there  was  such  a  country.  And  according  to  your 
plans  there  5s  none!  That  is  robbery  .  .  . 
and  he  said  to  the  learned  man :  You  good-for-noth- 
ing scamp  .  .  .  you  are  a  cheat  and  no  sage. 
Then  he  gave  him  a  sound  blow  over  the  skull,  and 
still  another.  .  .  .  (Is  silent  a  few  moments.) 
And  then  he  went  home  and  choked  himself  .  .  . 
(All  are  silent.  LuKA  looks  silently  at  Pepel  and 
Natasha.) 

Pepei, — The  devil  take  him     .     .     .     the  story 


96  SUBMERGED 

is  it  not  cheerful.     .     .     . 

Natasha — He  couldn't  stand  it  .  .  .  to  be 
so  disappointed. 

BuBNOFF — (In  a  surly  tone.)     All  tales.     .     .    . 

Pepel — Hm,  yes  .  .  .  there  is  your  land  of 
justice     ...     it  was  not  to  be  found,  it  seems. 

Natasha — One  should  have  sympathy  for  him 
.     the  poor  man. 

BuBNOFF — All  imagination  .  .  .  ha,  ha! 
The  land  of  justice — stuff!  Ha,  ha,  ha,  ha!  {Exit 
into  kitchen.) 

LuKA — {Looking  after  him.)  He  laughs,  ah  yes. 
{Pause.)  Yes,  children  .  .  .  farewell  .  .  . 
I  shall  leave  you  soon. 

Pepel — Where  do  you  journey,  then? 

LuKA — To  Little  Russia.  ...  I  hear  they 
have  discovered  a  new  religion  there.  .  .  .  I 
will  see  what  it  is  .  .  .  yes  .  .  .  Men 
search  and  search,  always  looking  for  something 
better     .     .     .     may  God  give  them  patience. 

Pepel — Think  you,  they  will  find  it? 

LuKA — Who?  Mankind?  Certainly  they  shall 
find  it.  .  .  .  He  who  yearns  ...  he 
finds     .     .     .     who  searches  zealously — he   finds! 

Natasha — I  wish  them  a  happy  journey.  I 
hope  they  will  find  something, 

LuKA — That  shall  they  surely  do.    But  we  must 


ACT  III  97 

help  them,  my  daughter  .  .  .  must  respect 
them.     .     .     . 

Natasha — How  shall  I  help  them?  I  am  my- 
self    ...     so  helpless. 

Pepel — {Restrained.)  Listen  to  me,  Natasha 
.  .  .  I  want  to  speak  to  you  ...  in  his 
presence  ...  he  knows  it  .  .  .  come 
.     .     .     with  me! 

Natasha — Where?  To  Prison? 

Pepel — I  have  already  told  you  that  I  will  give 
up  stealing.  By  God,  I  will!  When  I  say  a  thing, 
I  keep  my  word.  I  have  learned  to  read  and  write 
.  .  .  I  can  easily  make  a  living.  {With  a  move- 
ment of  the  hand  toxvards  LuKA. )  He  advised  me 
— to  try  it  in  Siberia  .  .  .  to  go  of  my  own 
accord.  .  ,  .  How  docs  it  strike  you — shall  we 
go?  Believe  me,  I  am  sick  of  this  life.  Ah,  Natasha! 
I  see  indeed  how  things  are  ...  I  have  con- 
soled my  conscience  with  the  thought  that  others 
steal  more  than  I — and  are  still  respected  .  .  . 
but  how  does  that  help  me  .  .  .  not  in  the 
least.  But  I  have  no  regret  .  .  .  nor,  as  I  be- 
lieve, any  conscience.  .  .  .  But  I  feel  one 
thing:  that  I  must  live  in  a  different  way.  I  must 
live  better  ...  I  must  live  ...  so  that 
I  can  respect  myself.     .     .     . 

LuKA — Quite  right,  my  boy.  Mav  God  be  with 
you     .     .     .     May  Christ  help    you!      Well    re- 


98  SUBMERGED 

solved :  a  man  must  respect  himself     .     .     . 

Pepel — From  childhood,  I  have  been — only  a 
thief  .  .  .  Always  I  was  called,  Waska,  the 
pickpocket,  Waska,  the  son  of  a  thief!  See,  it  was 
of  no  consequence  to  me,  as  long  as  they  would  have 
it  so  .  .  .  so  they  would  have  it  ...  I 
was  a  thief,  perhaps,  only  out  of  spite  ...  be- 
cause nobody  came  along  to  call  me  anything  ex- 
cept— thief  .  .  .  You  call  me  something  else, 
Natasha     .     .     .     now? 

Natasha — {In  low  spirits.)  I  do  not  quite  be- 
lieve it  all  .  .  .  words  are  words  .  .  . 
and  then  ...  I  don't  know.  .  .  .  Today 
I  am  disquieted  ...  my  heart  is  despondent. 
As  though  I  dreaded  something.  You  would  not 
begin  today,  Wassili.     .     .     • 

Pepel — When  else,  then!  This  is  not  the  first 
time  I  have  spoken.     .     .     . 

Natasha — Shall  I  go  with  you.  ...  I 
love  you  .  .  .  not  too  much.  .  .  .  Some- 
times I  like  you  ...  but  then  at  times  I  can- 
not look  at  you  ...  in  any  case  I  do  not  love 
.  .  .  when  one  loves,  one  sees  no  fault  in  the 
beloved  .  .  .  and  I  see  faults  in  you.  .  .  . 
Pepel — You  will  soon  love  me,  have  no  fear! 
You  will  become  accustomed  to  me  .  .  .  only 
say  'yes.'  For  over  a  year  I  have  been  watching 
you,  and  I  sec  that  you  are  an  honest  girl     .     .     . 


ACT  III  99 

a  good,  true  woman  ...  I  love  you  with  all 
my  heart.  (Wassilissa,  still  in  gay  street  dress, 
appears  at  the  door  at  the  head  of  the  stair,  R.  U. 
E.  She  stands  with  one  hand  on  the  balustrade  and 
the  other  on  the  door  post  and  laughs.) 

Natasha — So  .  .  .  you  love  me  with  all 
your  heart,  and  my  sister.     .     .     . 

Pepel — {Embarrassed.)  What  do  I  care  for 
her?     Her  kind  is  nothing.     .     .     . 

LuKA — It  does  not  matter,  my  daughter.  One 
eats  turnips  when  he  has  no  bread.     .     .     . 

Pepel — (Gloomily.)  Have  pity  on  me.  It  is 
no  easy  life  that  I  lead — friendless;  pursued  like  a 
wolf.  ...  I  sink  like  a  man  in  a  swamp 
whatever  I  clutch  is  slimy  and  rotten 
.  .  .  nothing  is  firm  .  .  .  your  sister 
though,  would  be  different  ...  if  she  were 
not  so  avaricious  ...  I  would  have  risked 
everything  for  her  ...  If  she  had  only  kept 
faith  with  me  .  .  .  but  her  heart  is  set  on 
something  else  .  .  .  her  heart  is  full  of  greed 
.  .  .  and  longs  for  freedom — and  only  that 
longing  in  order  to  become  more  dissolute.  She 
cannot  help  me  .  .  .  but  you — like  a  young 
fir-tree,  you  are  prickly  but  you  give  support.    .    .    . 

LuKA — And  I  say  to  you :  take  him,  my  daugh- 
ter, take  him.  He  is  a  good-hearted  boy.  All  you 
must  do  is  to  remind  him  often,  that  he  is  good 


loo  SUBMERGED 

.  .  .  so  that  he  will  not  forget  it.  He  will  soon 
believe  you.  Only  say  to  him,  often,  Waska,  you 
are  a  good  man  .  .  .  don't  forget  it!  Think 
it  over,  my  love — what  else  shall  you  begin?  Your 
sister — she  is  a  bad  lot:  and  of  her  husband — noth- 
ing good  can  be  said  either :  no  words  can  be  found 
to  express  his  baseness  .  .  .  and  this  whole  life 
here  .  .  .  where  shall  you  find  a  way  out? 
.  .  .  But  Waska  .  .  .  he  is  a  lusty  fel- 
low, 

Natasha — I  cannot  find  a  way  ...  I 
know  that  ...  I  have  already  thought  it  over 
myself  .  .  .  but  I  .  .  .  whom  can  I 
trust?     .     .     .     .     I  see  no  way  out.     .     .     . 

Pep  EL — There  is  but  one  way  .  .  .  but  I 
shall  not  let  you  take  it  ...  I  would  kill  you 
first.     .     .     . 

Natasha — {Laughing.)  Just  look  ...  I 
am  not  yet  your  wife,  and  you  will  already  kill  me. 

Pepel — {Putting  his  arms  around  her.)  Say, 
'yes,'  Natasha.     It  will  soon  be  well.     .     .     . 

Natasha — {Presses  him  affectionately.)  .  .  . 
One  thing  I  will  tell  you,  Wassili.  .  .  .  And 
God  shall  be  my  witness:  if  you  strike  me  a  single 
time  ...  or  insult  me  .  .  .  that  shall  be 
the  end     .     .     .     either  I  hang  myself,  or     .     .     . 

Pepel — May  this  hand  wither  up,  if  I  touch 
you.     .     .     . 


ACT  III  loi 

LuKA — Don't  be  troubled,  my  love,  you  can  be- 
lieve him.  You  are  necessary  to  his  happiness,  and 
he  to  yours.     .     .     . 

Wassilissa — {From  above.)  And  the  match  is 
made.     May  God  give  you  love  and  harmony. 

Natasha — They  are  already  back  .  .  .  Oh, 
God!  They  have  seen  us     .     .     .     ah,  Wassili! 

Pepel — What  are  you  afraid  of.  Nobody  dares 
touch  you  now ! 

Wassilissa — Do  not  be  afraid,  Natalya.  He 
will  not  strike  you  .  .  .  He  can  neither  strike, 
nor  love     ...     I  know  him. 

Luka — (Softly.)  Ah,  such  a  woman  .  .  . 
a  venomous  snake.     .     .     . 

Wassilissa — He  is  only  bold  with  words.    .    .    . 

KOSTILIOFF — {Enters  R.  from  kitchen.)  Na- 
taschka!  What  are  you  doing  here,  lazy-bones? 
Gossiping,  eh !  Complaining  about  your  relatives : 
the  samovar  is  not  in  order,  the  table  not  cleared  off. 

Natasha — {Going  R.  kitchen.)  You  were  go- 
ing to  church,  I  thought.     .     .     . 

KosTiLiOFF — It  does  not  concern  you  what  we 
are  going  to  do.     Mind  your  own  business     . 
do  what  you  are  told. 

Pepel — Shut  up.  She  is  not  your  servant  now. 
.  .  .  Natalya,  don't  budge  .  .  .  don't  move 
a  finger. 

Natasha — It  is  not  for  you  to  give  orders  here. 


I02  SUBMERGED 

.     .     .     Too  soon  yet  for  orders.     {Ex.  R.) 

Pepel — (To  KosTiLioFF.)  Enough  of  that. 
You  have  mortified  the  poor  girl  enough!  She  is 
mine  now. 

KosTiLiOFF — You-u?  When  did  you  buy  her? 
What  did  you  pay  for  her?  (Wassilissa  laughs 
aloud.) 

LuKA — Wasja!    Get  out.     .     .     . 

Pepel — You're  having  a  good  time  over  me, 
aren't  you?    You  may  weep  yet! 

Wassilissa — What  do  you  say!  I  am  afraid  of 
you.     (Laughs.) 

LuKA — Go  away,  Wassili!  Don't  you  see  how 
she  plays  with  you  .  .  .  pricks  you  on — can't 
you  understand? 

Pepel — ^Ah  ...  so!  (To  Wassilissa). 
Don't  give  yourself  any  trouble.  What  you  want 
will  not  be  done. 

Wassilissa — And  what  I  do  not  want  done,  will 
not  be  done,  Wasja! 

Pepel — (Threatens  her  with  his  fist.)  We 
shall  see     .     .     .      (Ex.  L.  U.  E.) 

Wassilissa — (As  she  goes  out  R.  U.  E.)  I  will 
prepare  a  glorious  wedding  for  you. 

KoSTiLiOFF — (Advances  on  Luka.)  So  .  .  . 
What  are  you  stirring  up,  old  man? 

Luka — Nothing,  old  man. 

KosTiLiOFF — Um!  You  are  going  to  leave  us,  I 


ACT  III  103 

hear ! 

LuKA — It  is  time. 

KosTiLioFF — Where  to? 

LuKA — Wherever  my  nose  points. 

KosTiLiOFF — You  are  going  to  become  a  vaga- 
bond again.    You  seem  to  be  a  rolling  stone.    .     .    . 

LuKA — Resting  iron  is  rusting  iron,  says  the  pro- 
verb. 

KosTiLiOFF — That  may  be  true  of  iron,  but  a 
man  must  remain  in  one  place  .  .  .  Men  can- 
not be  tumbling  about  like  cockroaches  in  the  kitch- 
en ..  .  first  here,  then  there.  ...  A 
man  must  have  a  place  which  he  can  call  home. 
.  .  .  He  must  not  be  crawling  aimlessly  about 
the  earth. 

LuKA — And  if  one — is  at  home  everywhere? 

KosTiLiOFF — Then  he  is  only — a  tramp  .  .  . 
a  good-for-nothing  fellow  ...  a  man  must 
make  himself  useful     ...     he  must  work.    .    .    . 

LuKA — What's  that  you're  saying? 

KosTiLiOFF — Yes,  indeed!  What  else  then? 
.  .  .  You  call  yourself  a  wanderer,  a  pilgrim. 
.  .  .  What  is  a  pilgrim?  A  pilgrim  is  one  who 
goes  his  own  way — keeps  to  himself  .  .  .  has 
peculiarities,  so  to  speak,  is  unlike  other  people 
.  ,  .  that's  what  we  understand  about  a  true 
pilgrim.  .  .  .  He  ponders  and  unravels  .  .  . 
and   at   last   discovers  something     .     .     .     perhaps 


104  SUBMERGED 

the  truth,  who  knows.  .  .  .  He  holds  his 
truth  for  himself,  and  remains  silent.  If  he  is  a 
true  pilgrim,  he  remains  silent.  .  .  .  Or,  he 
speaks  so  that  no  one  understands  him.  .  .  .  He 
has  no  wish  to  be  gratified,  doesn't  turn  people's 
heads,  does  not  butt-in.  How  others  live — gives 
him  no  concern.  .  .  .  He  lives  proudly  and  in 
rectitude  .  .  .  searches  out  the  forest  and  the 
unfrequented  places  .  .  .  where  no  one  comes. 
He  is  in  nobody's  way,  condemns  nobody  .  .  . 
but  prays  for  all  .  .  .  for  all  the  sinners  of 
this  world  .  .  .  for  me,  for  you  .  .  .  for 
all!  He  flies  from  the  vanity  of  this  world — to 
prayer.  So  it  is.  (Pause.)  And  you  .  .  . 
what  sort  of  a  pilgrim  are  you  .  .  .  you  have 
not  even  a  passport.  .  .  .  Every  law  abiding 
citizen  must  have  a  passport  ...  all  orderly 
people  have  passports     .     .     .     yes.     .     . 

LuKA — There    are    people    and    there    are   men. 

•  *  • 

KosTiLiOFF — Don't  get  funny!  Don't  give  us 
any  riddle  ...  I  am  not  your  fool.  .  .  . 
What  do  you  mean  by  people — and  men? 

LuKA — This  is  no  riddle.  I  mean — there  are 
stony  fields  which  are  not  worth  sowing  .  .  . 
and  there  are  fertile  fields  .  .  .  whatever  is 
sown   thereon — yields  a  harvest     ...     so   it  is. 


ACT  III  105 

KoSTiLlOFF — And  what  does  all  this  mean? 

LuKA — You  for  example  ...  If  God  him- 
self said  to  you:  'Michailo,  be  a  man,'  it  is  certain 
that  it  would  be  useless  ...  As  you  are,  so 
you  will  remain  for  all  time.     .     .     . 

KosTiLiOFF — Ah  .  .  .  and  do  you  know 
that  my  wife's  uncle  is  on  the  police  force?  And 
if  I     .     .     . 

Wassilissa — {Enters  R.)  Michailo  Ivanitsch, 
come  drink  your  tea.     .     .     . 

KoSTiLiOFF — {To  LuKA.)  Hear  me,  you — 
keep  out  of  this  row — leave  my  house.     .     .     . 

Wassilissa — Yes,  put  on  your  knapsack,  old 
man  .  .  .  your  tongue  is  too  long  .  .  . 
who  knows  .  .  .  perhaps  you  may  be  an  es- 
caped convict. 

KosTiLiOFF — Be  sure  that  you  disappear  today 
.     .     .     .     or  else     ...     we  shall  see. 

LuKA — Or  else  you  will  call  your  uncle,  eh? 
Call  him  .  .  .  tell  him,  you  can  catch  a  con- 
vict here,  uncle  .  .  .  then  your  uncle  will  re- 
ceive a  reward     .     .     .     three  copecs.     .     .     . 

BuBNOFF — {Looking  out  from  over  the  stove.) 
What   business   are    you    haggling    about     . 
w^hat  is  it     .     .     .     for  three  copecs     .     .     .? 

LuKA — We  are  trying  to  sell  me. 

Wassilissa — {To  her  husband.)     Let's  go. 

BuBNOFF — For   three   copecs.     Take    care    old 


io6  SUBMERGED 

man     ...     or  they  will  sell  you  for  one  copec. 

•         •         • 

KosTiLiOFF — {To  BuBNOFF.)  What  are  you 
staring  out  of  there  for,  like  a  hobgoblin  out  of  a 
tunnel?     {Approaches  R.  with  Wassilissa.) 

Wassilissa — How  many  blackbirds  there  are  in 
the  world     .     .     .     how  many  knaves. 

LuKA — I  wish  you  a  good  appetite. 

Wassilissa — {Turns  to  him.)  Take  good  care 
of  yourself — you  dirty  toadstool.  {Ex.  with  Kos- 
TILIOFF  R.) 

LuKA — Tonight — I  leave. 

BuBNOFF — You'll  do  right.  It  is  always  best 
to  go  before  it  is  too  late    .     .     . 

LuKA — Quite  right. 

BuBNOFF — I  speak  from  experience.  I  took  my 
own  departure  once  at  the  right  moment,  and  saved 
myself  a  trip  to  Siberia. 

LuKA — What  do  you  say? 

BuBNOFF — It  is  true.  The  case  was  thus:  my 
wife  had  a  love  affair  with  my  assistant  .  .  . 
and  a  very  good  assistant  he  was,  I  must  admit 
.  .  .  he  could  make  the  most  beautiful  polar 
bear  furs  from  dog  skins  .  .  .  cat  skins  he 
dyed  into  Kangaroos  .  .  .  into  musk  rats 
.  .  .  into  anything  you  could  wish  ...  a 
very  clever  fellow.  My  wife  was  madly  in  love 
with  him.     They  hung  on  each  other  so  much  that 


ACT  III  107 

I  feared  every  moment  they  would  poison  me  or 
put  me  out  of  the  world  in  some  other  way.  I 
whipped  my  wife  often,  and  my  assistant  whipped 
me  .  .  .  and  I  tell  you  he  made  a  savage  job 
of  it,  too.  Once  he  pulled  half  my  beard  out  and 
broke  a  rib  for  me.  Naturally  I  was  not  particu- 
lar when  I  struck  back  .  .  .  gave  my  wife  one 
over  the  skull  with  an  iron  yard  stick  .  .  .  we 
were  generally  fighting  like  good  fellows.  Finally 
I  saw  there  was  no  chance  for  me  .  .  .  they 
would  surely  fix  it  for  me.  Then  I  arranged  a 
plan — to  kill  my  wife  ...  I  had  quite  made 
up  my  mind.  But  in  the  nick  of  time — I  came  to 
my  senses — and  cleared  out  of  the  row.     .     .     . 

LuKA — It  was  better  so,  let  them  be  quiet  there 
making  polar  bears  out  of  dogs. 

BuBNOFF — Worse  luck,  the  shop  was  in  her 
name  .  .  .  only  what  I  had  on  my  back  I 
kept  .  .  .  though,  to  speak  honestly,  I  would 
have  drunk  the  place  up  in  no  time  ...  I  am 
a  glorious  drunk  you  understand. 

LuKA — A  glorious  drunk. 

BuBNOFF — Oh,  a  glorious  drunk.  When  things 
come  my  way  I  soak  up  everything  in  sight.  And 
then  I  am  lazy  .  .  .  nothing  is  more  terrible 
than  work.  (Sahtin  and  the  AcTOR  come  in 
quarrelling.) 

Sahtin — Nonsense!      You    will     go     nowhere. 


io8  SUBMERGED 

You're  talking  stupid  stuff.  Tell  me,  pilgrim  .  .  . 
what  spark  have  you  been  throwing  into  this  burned 
stump  ? 

Actor — You  He!  Grandfather,  tell  him  that  he 
lies.  I  go.  I  have  worked  today.  I  have  cleaned 
the  pavement  .  .  .  and  drunk  no  whiskey. 
What  do  you  say  now?  There,  see — two  fifteeners, 
and  I  am  sober. 

Sahtin — It  is  all  wrong!  Give  it  to  me.  Til 
spend  it  on  drink     ...     or  lose  it  at  cards. 

Actor — Let  it  alone.     It  is  for  the  journey. 

LuKA — {To  Sahtin.)  Listen  you — why  do 
you  try  to  upset  his  resolution? 

Sahtin — 'Tell  me,  you  wizard,  darling  of  the 
gods — what  shall  fate  with  my  future  do?'*  Mon- 
eyless, brother,  I  have  played  everything  away, 
broke.  But  the  world  is  not  lost,  old  man,  there 
are  still  sharper  knaves  than  I. 

LuKA — You  are  a  lusty  brother,  Constantine 
.     .     .     a  loveable  man.     .     .     . 

BuBNOFF — -You  actor,  come  here.  {The  Actor 
goes  to  the  stove  and  talks  apart  with  Bubnoff.) 

Sahtin — When  I  was  still  young,  I  was  a  jolly 
chicken.  I  look  back  on  it  with  pleasure.  .  .  . 
I  had  the  soul  of  a  man.  ...  I  danced  splen- 
didly, acted,  was  a  famous  bachelor  .  .  .  sim- 
ply phenomenal ! 


♦Citation  from  Pushkin,  note  of  the  translator. 


ACT  III  109 

LuKA — How  then  have  you  gotten  so  far  afield 
.     .     .     hm? 

Sahtin — You  are  curious,  old  man.  You  would 
know  all     .     .     .     and  what  for? 

LuKA — I  always  like  to  know  about  .  .  . 
mankind's  difficulties  .  .  .  and  I  do  not  un- 
derstand you,  Constantine.  When  I  look  at  you; 
such  a  loveable  man  ...  so  sensible  .  .  . 
then  suddenly.     .     .     . 

Sahtin — The  prison,  grandfather.  Four  years 
and  seven  months  I  have  done,  and  coming  out,  a 
discharged  convict,  I  found  my  course  in  life  shut 
up.     .     . 

Luka — Oh,  oh,  oh!  Why  then  were  you  im- 
prisoned ? 

Sahtin — On  account  of  a  deceiver — whom  I 
killed  in  a  passion.  ...  In  prison,  too,  I 
learned  my  art  of  card  playing.     .     .     . 

Luka — And  why  did  you  kill  him?  On  ac- 
count of  a  woman? 

Sahtin — On  account  of  my  own  sister.     .     .     . 
Stop   questioning     ...     it   annoys   me. 
It  is     .     .     .     an  old  story     ...     my  sister  is 
dead     .     .     .     nine  years  have  gone  by     .     .     . 
she    was   a   splendid    creature     .     .     .     my   sister. 

•  •  • 

Luka — You  take  life  easily.  It  falls  more  heav- 
ily on  others.     .     .     .     Did  you  jujst  nqw,^  for  e.?^-. 


no  SUBMERGED 

ample,  hear  the  locksmith  crying  out— oh,  oh! 

Sahtin — Kleshtsch  ? 

LuKA — The  same.  No  work,  he  cried  .  .  . 
absolutely  none. 

Sahtin — You  will  get  accustomed  to  that. 
.     .     .     Tell  me,  what  shall  I  now  begin  to  do? 

LuKA — (Softly.)  Look,  there  he  comes. 
.  .  .  (Kleshtsch  enters  slowly  L.  U.  E.  with 
sunken  head.) 

Sahtin — Heh,  there,  widower!  What  are  you 
hanging  your  head  for?  What  are  you  brooding 
over? 

Kleshtsch — My  skull  is  splitting  from  it. 
.  .  .  What  shall  I  do  now !  My  tools  arc  gone. 
.     .     .     The  funeral  has  eaten  everything  up.   .   .   . 

Sahtin — I  will  give  you  a  piece  of  advice.  Do 
nothing  at  all.  Burden  the  earth  with  your  weight 
— simple  enough. 

Kleshtsch — You  advise  well.  .  .  .  I — still 
am  ashamed  before  others. 

Sahtin — Drop  it  .  .  .  people  are  not 
ashamed  to  let  you  live  worse  than  a  dog.  Just 
imagine  if  you  would  not  work,  and  I  would  not 
work  .  .  .  and  still  hundreds  and  thousands 
of  others  would  not  work  .  .  .  and  finally 
everybody — understand? — everybody  quit  work  and 
nobody  did  anj^hing  at  all — ^what,  do  you  think, 
would  happen  then? 


ACT  III  111 

Kleshtsch — Everybody  would   starve.     .     .     . 

LuKA — {To  Sahtin.)  There  is  such  a  sect. 
'Jumpers,'  they  call  themselves.  .  .  .  They 
talk  exactly  like  you.     .     .     . 

Sahtin — I  know  them.  .  .  .  They  are  not 
at  all  such  fools,  pilgrim.  {From  Kostilioff's 
room  R.    U.  E.  screaming.) 

Natasha — {Within.)  What  are  you  doing — 
stop     .     .     .     what  have  I  done? 

LuKA — {Disquieted.)  Who  is  screaming  there? 
Was  it  not  Natasha?  Ah,  you.  .  .  .  {From 
Kostilioff's  room  is  heard  a  loud  alarm,  and  then 
from  the  kitchen  the  sound  of  crashing  dishes.) 

KOSTILIOFF — {Within,  screaming.)  A — ah — 
you  cat — you     .     .     .     heathen. 

Wassilissa — {Within.)  Wait  .  .  .  I'll  give 
her    ...    so    ...    so    ..    .    and  so.    .    .    . 

Natasha — {Within.)  Help!  They  are  killing 
me! 

Sahtin — {Runs  up  steps  R.  U.  E.  shouting.) 
Heh,  there!     What  are  you  howling  about? 

Luka — {Walks  about  uneasily.)  Wasja  .  .  . 
he  must  be  called.  .  .  ,  Wassili.  .  .  .  Oh, 
God.     .     .     .     Children,  my  dears. 

Actor — {Hurries  out,  L.  U.  E.)  I'll  bring 
him     .     .     .     right  away.     .     .     . 

BuBNOFF — They're  treating  the  poor  girl  badly 
these  days. 


112  SUBMERGED 

Sahtin — Come,  pilgrim.  .  .  .  We  will  be 
witnesses. 

LuKA — {Exit  after  Sahtin  R.)  Why  witnesses? 
Too  often,  already,  have  I  been  a  witness.  If  Was- 
ja  would  only  come  .  .  .  oh!  this  is  terrible! 
terrible ! 

Natasha — {Within.)  Sister  .  .  .  dear  sis- 
ter   ..     .    wah    .     .     .     wa   .     .     .     a.     .    .     . 

BuBNOFF — Now  they  have  stopped  her  mouth. 
I'll  see  myself.  {The  noise  in  KoSTiLi- 
OFf's  room  is  weaker,  and  nothing  comes  from  the 
kitchen. ) 

KosTiLiOFF — {Within.)  Halt!  {A  door  is 
slammed  within,  and  the  whole  noise  is  cut  off  as  if 
by  a  hatchet.  On  the  stage,  silence.  .  .  .  It  is 
twilight. ) 

Kleshtsch — {Sits  on  bench  U.  taking  no  part, 
and  rubbing  his  hands  together.  Then  he  begins 
to  mumble  to  himself,  at  first  indistinctly.  Then 
louder.)  How  then?  ...  a  man  must  live. 
{Louder.)  At  least  a  shelter  .  .  .  but  no,  not 
that  .  .  .  not  even  a  comer  where  I  can  lie 
down.  .  .  .  Nothing  but  the  bare  man  ,  .  . 
helpless  and  deserted.  {Ex.  bent  over,  L.  U.  E. 
slowly.  For  a  few  moments,  ominous  silence.  Then 
somewhere  within,  on  the  R.  a  terrible  noise,  a 
chaos  of  tones,  louder  and  louder  and  nearer  and 
nearer.     Then  a  single  voice  is  heard.) 


ACT  III  113 

Wassilissa — (Within.)  I  am  her  sister.  Let 
me  go. 

KosTiLiOFF — {Within.)  What  right  have  you 
to  interfere? 

Wassilissa — {Within.)     You  convict! 

Sahtin — {Within.)  Bring  Wasjka  ...  be 
quick  .  .  .  Zoba,  strike  {a  policeman  s  whistle 
is  heard.) 

Tartar — {Jumps  down  the  steps,  R.  U.  E.,  his 
right  hand  bound  up.)  What  sort  of  laws  are 
these  ...  to  murder  in  broad  daylight?  (Kri- 
VOI  Zoba  hurries  in  L.  U.  E.,  followed  by  Kos- 
TILIOFF. ) 

Krivoi  Zoba — Now,  he  got  it  from  me. 

Medviedeff, — How  did  you  come  to  strike  him? 

Tartar — And  you — do  you  not  know  what  your 
duty  is? 

Medviedeff — {Running  after  Krivoi  Zoba.) 
Stop!     Give  me  my  whistle  back.     {Ex.  L.  U.  E.) 

Kostilioff — {Enters  R.  U.  E.)  Abram!  Catch 
him  .  .  .  hold  him  tight.  He  has  killed  me. 
.  .  .  {Down  the  steps  R.  U.  E.  come  KvAS- 
CHNYA  and  Nastiah.  They  help  Natasha,  who 
is  badly  beaten  up.  Sahtin  runs  up  the  stairs, 
bumping  into  Wassilissa,  luho  is  throwing  her  arms 
about  and  trying  to  strike  her  sister.  AlyoSCHKA 
is  jumping  around  like  one  possessed.  He  whistles 
in  Wassilissa's  ear  and  howls,     A  couple  of  rag- 


114  SUBMERGED 

ged  fellows  and  some  men  and  women  appear  L. 
U.  E.) 

Sahtin — {To  Wassilissa.)  Enough,  you 
damned   owl! 

Wassilissa — Away,  convict.  If  it  costs  me  my 
life,  I  will  tear  her  to  pieces. 

KvASHNYA — {Leads  Natasha  aside.)  Stop, 
Karpovna  .  .  .  for  shame!  How  can  you  be 
so  inhuman? 

Medviedeff — {Re-enters  L.  U.  E.,  takes  Sah- 
tin by  the  collar.)     Aha!     Now  I  have  you! 

Sahtin — Krivoi  Zoba.  Strike  ....  Wasja, 
Wasja.  {All  storm  the  entrance,  L.  U.  E.  Na- 
tasha is  taken  to  the  bed,  L.  Pepel  enters  L.  U. 
E.    Pushes  them  away.)     Where  is  Natasha,  you?) 

KOSTILIOFF — {Crouches  on  the  steps  R.  U.  E.) 
Abram!  Catch  Wasjka  .  .  .  brother,  help 
catch  Wasjka  ...  the  thief  ...  the 
robber.     .     .     . 

Pepel — There,  you  old  goat.  {Strikes  Kosti- 
LIOFF  brutally.  He  falls  so  that  his  body  lies  on 
the  landing,  his  legs  hidden  up  the  stairs.  .  Pepel 
hurries  to  Natasha.) 

Wassilissa — Fix  Wasjka  .  .  .  friends 
.     .     .     do  up  the  thief! 

Medviedeff — {To  Sahtin.)  You  shouldn't  have 
interfered  .  .  .  this  is  a  family  affair  here. 
They   are  all   related   to   each  other     .     .     .     and 


ACT  III  IIS 

who  are  you? 

Pepel — {To  Natasha).  What  did  she  hit  you 
with  ?     Did  she  stab  you.     ... 

KvASCHNYA — Look  what  a  beast.  They  have 
scalded  her  legs  with  hot  water. 

Nastiah — They  turned  the  samovar  over.    .    .    . 

Tartar — It  might  have  been  an  accident  .  .  . 
if  you  are  not  sure  you  should  not  accuse.     .     .     . 

Natasha — {Half  unconscious.)  Wassili  .  .  . 
take  me  away     .     .     .     hide  me. 

Wassilissa — Look,  my  friends  .  .  .  come 
here.  He  is  dead  .  .  .  they  have  killed  him. 
.  .  .  {All  gather  at  the  landing.  BuBNOFF  sep- 
arates himself  from  the  others  and  crosses  to  Pepel.  ) 

BuBNOFF — {Softly.)  Wasjka!  The  old  man 
is  done  for. 

Pepel — {Looks  at  Bubnoff  as  though  he  did 
not  understand.)  Get  a  cab  .  .  .  she  must  be 
taken  to  the  hospital.     .     .     .     I'll  settle  the  bill. 

Bubnoff — Listen  to  what  I'm  saying.  Some- 
body has  finished  the  old  man.  .  .  .  {The 
noise  on  the  stage  subsides  like  a  fire  into  which 
water  has  been  poured.  Half  aloud  separate  sen- 
tences are   uttered.) 

Is  it  really  true? 

We  have  it  there. 

Terrible. 

We  had  better  get  out,  brother. 


ii6  SUBMERGED 

The  devil! 

We  need  clear  heads  now. 

Get  out  before  the  police  come,  (The  group 
becomes  smaller.  BuBNOFF  and  the  Tartar  dis- 
appear. Nastiah  and  Kvaschnya  stoop  to  Kos- 
tilioff's  body.) 

Wassilissa — (Rises  and  cries  in  a  triumphant 
tone.)  They  have  killed  him  ...  my  hus- 
band! And  who  did  it?  He,  there!  Wasjka 
killed  him.  I  saw  it,  my  friends.  I  saw  it!  Now, 
Wasjka!     Police!     Police! 

Pepel — (Leaves    Natasha.)       Let    me    alone. 

.  .  get  out  of  the  way.  (Stares  at  the  body. 
To  Wassilissa.)  Now?  Now  you  are  glad? 
(Kicks  the  body.)  Scotched  at  last  .  .  .  the 
old  hound.  Now  you  have  your  desire.  .  .  . 
Shall  I  treat  you  in  the  same  way  .  .  .  and 
twist  your  necks.  (Falls  on  her,  but  is  quietly 
caught  by  Sahtin  and  Krivoi  Zoba.  Wassilissa 
hides  L.  U.  E.) 

Sahtin — Come  to  your  senses. 

Krivoi  Zora — P-r-r-r!  Where  would  you 
spring? 

Wassilissa — (Appearing  again.)  Nyah,  Wasj- 
ka, friend  of  my  heart!  Nobody  escapes  his  fate 
.     .     .     the   police!      Abram     .     .     .     whistle! 

Medviedeff — They  have  stolen  my  whistle,  the 
fiends. 


ACT  III  117 

Alyoschka — Here  it  is.  {He  whistles,  Medvib- 
DEFF  chases  him.) 

Sahtin — {Leads  Pepel  back  to  Natasha.) 
Don't  worry  Wasjka.  Killed  in  a  row  ...  a 
trifle!    Only  a  short  sentence  for  that.     .     .     . 

Wassilissa — Hold  him  tight.  Waska  murdered 
him.     ...     I  saw  it! 

Sahtin — I  handed  him  a  couple  myself.  .  .  . 
How  much  does  an  old  man  need?  Call  me  as  a 
witness,  Waska.     .     .     . 

Pepel — I  .  .  do  I  need  to  justify  myself. 
.  .  .  But  Wassilissa.  .  .  .  I'll  pull  her  in- 
to it!  She  wanted  it  done.  .  .  .  She  incited 
me  to  kill  her  husband  .  .  .  yes,  she  was  the 
instigator.     .     .     . 

Natasha — {Suddenly  springing  up.)  Ah.  .  .  . 
{In  a  loud  voice.)  Now  it  is  clear.  .  .  .  That's 
how  it  stands.  Wassili!  Listen,  good  people:  it 
was  all  arranged.  He  and  my  sister,  they  plotted 
it  out,  they  laid  their  plans!  I  see,  Wassili!  Be- 
fore .  .  .  you  spoke  with  me  .  .  .  that 
was  part  of  it!  Good  people,  she  is  his  mistress 
.  .  .  you  know  it  .  .  .  everybody  knows 
it.  .  .  .  They  understand  each  other.  She,  she 
instigated  the  murder  .  .  .  her  husband  was 
in  the  way  ...  for  that  reason  .  .  .  she 
beat  me  so.     .     .     . 

Pepel — Natalija!  What  are  you  saying.  .  .  . 
What  are  you  saying? 


ii8  SUBMERGED 

Sahtin — Foolish  chatter, 

Wassilissa — She  lies!  All  of  it  is  lies.  .  .  . 
I    know   of   nothing.     .     .     .     Waska    killed    him 

.     .     he  alone! 

Natasha — They  have  plotted  it  out.  .  .  . 
They   shall    be   convicted     .     .     .     both   of    them. 

•  •  • 

Sahtin — Here  is  a  game  for  you.  .  .  . 
Now  Wassili,  hold  fast  or  they  will  drown  you. 

Krivoi  Zoba — I  can't  understand  ...  ah 
.     .     .     far  away  from  here. 

Pepel — Natalija.  .  .  .  Speak  .  .  .  are 
you  in  earnest?  Can  you  believe  that  I  .  .  . 
with  her.     .     .     . 

Sahtin — For  God's  sake,  Natasha,  be  sensible. 

Wassilissa — {On  the  landing.)  They  killed  my 
husband  .  .  .  you  high  born  .  .  .  Waska 
Pepel,  the  thief  killed  him,  Mr.  Commissioner,  I 
saw  it     .     .     .     everybody  saw  it. 

Natasha — {Waltzing  about  half  senseless.) 
Good  people  .  .  .  my  sister  and  Waska  .  .  . 
they  killed  him.  Mr.  Policeman  .  .  .  listen 
to  me  .  .  .  these  two,  my  sister  put  him  up 
to  it  .  .  .  her  lover  .  .  .  she  instigated 
him  .  .  .  there  he  is,  the  accursed — the  two 
did  it.  Arrest  them  .  .  .  take  them  to  court 
.  .  .  and  take  me,  too  .  .  .  to  prison  with 
me!      For    the   sake   of    God     ...     to    prison. 


ACT  IV 

The  same  setting  except  that  Pepel's  room  is 
not  to  be  seen,  the  partitions  having  been  removed. 
The  anvil,  too,  where  Kleshtsch  sat,  is  gone.  In 
the  corner  which  was  occupied  by  Pepel's  chamber 
is  a  bunk  on  which  the  Tartar  lies,  restlessly  roll- 
ing about  and  groaning  with  pain.  KleSHTSCH 
sits  at  the  table  repairing  an  accordeon  and  now 
and  then  trying  the  chords.  At  the  other  end  of 
the  table  sit  Sahtin,  the  Baron,  and  Nastiah. 
Before  them  a  bottle  of  spirits,  three  bottles  of  beer 
and  a  great  hunk  of  black  bread.  On  the  stove 
the  Actor,  shifting  about  and  coughing.  It  is 
night.  The  stage  is  lit  by  a  lamp  which  is  in  the 
middle  of  the  table.     Outside  the  wind  howls. 

Kleshtsch — Yes.  ...  In  the  midst  of  the 
row  he  disappeared. 

Baron — He  took  flight  before  the  police,  as  a  fog 
before  the  sun. 

Sahtin — So  all  sinners  fly  before  the  face  of  the 
just. 

Nastiah — He  was  a  splendid  old  man  .  .  . 
and  you  are  not  men    .    .    .    you  are  rust.     .     . 

Baron — (Drinks.)     To  your  health,  lady! 

Sahtin — An  interesting  patriarch  .  .  .  truly  I 
Our  Nastiah  fell  in  love  with  him. 

119 


120  SUBMERGED 

Nastiah — True.  ...  I  fell  in  love  with 
him.  He  had  an  eye  for  everything  ...  he 
understood  everything.     .     .     . 

Sahtin — (Laughs.)  For  some  people  he  was  a 
Godsend     .     .     .     like  mush  for  the  toothless. 

Baron — (Laughs.)  Or  a  poultice  for  an  ab- 
scess. 

Kleshtsch — He  had  a  sympathetic  heart  .  .  . 
you  here     .     .     .     have  no  sympathy. 

Sahtin — What  good  would  it  do  you  for  me 
to  show  you  pity? 

Kleshtsch — ^You  need  not  sympathize  .  .  . 
but  at  least     ...     do  not  injure  me.     .     .     . 

Tartar — (Gets  up  on  his  bench  and  moves  his 
injured  hand  back  and  forth ,  as  if  it  were  a  baby.) 
The  old  man  was  good.  .  .  .He  had  respect  for 
the  law  in  his  heart  .  .  .  and  whoever  in  his 
heart  keeps  the  law  .  .  .  that  man  is  good. 
He  who  does  not — is  lost.     .     .     . 

Baron — What  law  do  you  mean,  prince? 

Tartar — As  you  will  .  .  .  the  law  .  .  . 
the  law  to  you     .     .     .     you  understand  me. 

Baron — Go  on. 

Tartar — Encroach  upon  no  man  .  .  .  there 
you  have  the  law.     .     . 

Sahtin — With  us  in  Russia  it  is  called,  'Code 
for  Criminal  Punishment  and  Correction.' 

Baron — ^With  another  'Code  for  Penalties  Im- 


ACT  IV  121 

posed  by  Justices  of  the  Peace.' 

Tartar — With  us  it  is  called  the  Koran.  .  .  . 
Your  Koran  is  your  law  .  .  .  our  Koran  we 
must  carry  in  our  hearts. 

Kleshtsch — {Tries  the  accordeon.)  Don't  be 
forever  hissing,  you  beast.  What  the  prince  says 
is  right.  .  .  .  We  must  live  according  to  the 
law     .     .     .     according  to  the  gospels.     .     .     . 

Sahtin — Live  so. 

Baron — Try  it. 

Tartar — Mohammed  gave  us  the  Koran  .  .  . 
there  you  have  your  law,  he  said.  Do,  as  is  writ- 
ten therein.  Then  a  time  shall  come  when  the 
Koran  will  not  suffice  ...  a  new  time  with 
new  laws  .  .  .  for  every  ejwch  has  its  own 
laws. 

Sahtin — Yes,  of  course,  our  epoch  gives  us 
'Criminal  Code.'  A  durable  law,  not  so  easily 
worn  off. 

Nastiah — {Knocks  on  the  table  with  her 
knuckles.)  Now  I  would  like  to  know  .  .  . 
exactly  why  I  live  .  .  .  here  with  you?  I 
shall  go  .  .  .  anywhere  ...  to  the  end 
of  the  earth. 

Baron — Without  shoes,  lady? 

Nastiah — Quite  naked,  as  far  as  I  care!  I 
shall  crawl  on  all  fours  if  you  please. 

Baron — That  would  be  picturesque     ...     on 


122  SUBMERGED 

all  fours.     .     .     . 

Nastiah — I  would  do  it  .  .  .  willingly 
.  ,  .  if  I  only  need  not  have  to  look  at  your 
snout  again  ...  ah,  how  disgusting  every- 
thing has  become  to  me  .  .  .  my  whole  life 
everybody. 

Sahtin — When  you  go,  take  the  actor  along 
with  you.  .  .  .  He'll  soon  be  going  anyhow 
.  .  .  he  has  learned  that  exactly  half  a  mile 
from  the  end  of  the  earth  there  is  a  hospital  for  org- 
isms. 

Actor — {Sticks  his  head  out  over  the  edge  of 
the  stove.)     For  organisms,  blockhead. 

Sahtin — For  organs  which  are  poisoned  with  al- 
cohol. 

Actor — Yes,  he  will  soon  be  going,  very  soon! 
You  \vill  see! 

Baron — Who  is  this  'he,'  sire? 

Actor — It  is  I. 

Baron — Merci,  servant  of  the  goddess,  who 
.  .  .  ah,  what  is  she  called?  The  goddess  of 
the  drama,  of  tragedy     .     .     .     what  is  her  name? 

Actor — The  muse,  blockhead,  no  goddess,  but 
muse! 

Sahtin — Lachesis  .  .  .  Hera  .  ,  .  Aphro- 
dite .  .  .  Atropo?  ...  the  devil  knows  the 
difference  between  them  .  .  .  and  our  young 
adorer   of   the   muse   shall   leave   us     .     .     .     the 


ACT  IV  123 

old  man  has  wound  him  up.     .     .     . 

Baron — The  old  man  was  a  fool.     .     .     . 

Actor — And  you  are  ignorant  savages.  You 
don't  even  know  who  Melpomene  is.  Heartless 
.  .  .  you  will  see — he  will  leave  you!  'Inter- 
rupt not  your  orgy,  black  souls,'  as  Beranger  says. 
.  .  .  He  will  soon  find  the  place  where  there  is 
nothing  more     .     .     .     absolutely. 

Baron — Where  there  is  nothing  more,  sire? 

Actor — Yes!  Nothing  more,  'this  hole  here 
.  .  .  it  shall  be  my  grave.  ...  I  die, 
faded  and  powerless.'  And  you,  why  do  you  live? 
Why? 

Baron — Just  listen,  you — Kean,  or  Genius  and 
Passion.     Don't  bellow  so. 

Actor — Hold  your  snout.  ...  So  I  will, 
I'll  roar! 

Nastiah — {Raises  her  head  from  the  table,  and 
waves  her  arms  about.)  Roar  forever!  They  may 
hear  it. 

Baron — What  is  the  meaning  of  that,  lady? 

Sahtin — Let  her  chatter,  Baron  .  .  ,  the 
devil  take  them  both  .  .  .  may  they  scream 
.  .  .  may  they  run  their  heads  together  .  .  . 
go  on  .  .  .  it  has  a  meaning.  .  .  .  Don't 
injure  others,  as  the  old  man  said  .  .  .  the 
pilgrim  has  made  us  all  rebellious. 

Kleshtsch — He  enticed  us  to  start  out    .    .    . 


124  SUBMERGED 

and  knew  not  himself  the  way. 

Baron — The  old  man  was  a  charlatan. 

Nastiah — It  is  not  true!  You  are  yourself  a 
charlatan. 

Baron — Don't  chatter,  lady. 

Kleshtsch — He  was  no  friend  of  truth,  the  old 
man.  .  .  .  He  stood  with  all  his  might  over 
against  the  truth  .  .  .  and  after  all,  he  is  right 
.  .  .  of  what  use  to  me  is  all  truth,  when  I 
haven't  a  mouthful?  There,  look  at  the  prince. 
{Looks  towards  the  Tartar.)  ...  he  has 
crushed  his  hand  at  work  .  .  .  now  they  say, 
it  must  come  off  .  .  .  there  you  have  the 
truth. 

Sahtin — {Strikes  the  table  with  his  fist.)  Be 
still!  Asses!  Say  nothing  ill  of  the  old  man. 
{More  quietly.)  You,  Baron,  are  the  biggest  fool 
of  all  .  .  .  you  have  no  glimmering  of  sense — 
and  you  keep  on  chattering.  The  old  man  a  charla- 
tan? What  is  truth?  Mankind  is  the  truth!  He 
had  seized  that  .  .  .  but  you  have  not!  You 
are  as  stupid  as  a  brick  in  the  pavement.  I  under- 
stood him  very  well,  the  old  man.  .  .  .  He  did 
tell  them  lies,  but  he  lied  out  of  sympathy,  as  the 
devil  knows.  There  are  many  such  people  who  lie 
for  brotherly  sympathy's  sake.  ...  I  know  I 
have  read  about  it.  They  lie  so  beautifully,  with 
such  spirit,  so  wonderfully.    We  have  such  soothing. 


ACT  IV  125 

such  conciliating  lies.  .  .  .  And  there  are  lies 
which  justify  taking  the  anvil  away,  and  the  mashed 
hand  of  the  toiler  .  .  .  which  bring  charges 
against  the  starving.  .  .  .  I  .  .  .  know 
these  lies.  .  .  .  He  who  has  a  timid  heart 
.  .  .  or  lives  at  another's  table,  should  be  lied 
to  ...  it  gives  him  courage  .  .  .  puts  a 
mantle  on  his  shoulders  .  .  .  but  he  who  is  his 
own  master,  who  is  independent,  and  lives  not  from 
the  sweat  of  another's  brow  .  .  .  what  are  lies 
to  him?  The  lie  is  the  religion  of  servant  and  mas- 
ter ..  .  the  truth  is  the  inheritance  of  free 
men! 

Baron — Bravo!  Gloriously  said!  Exactly  my 
idea!  You  speak  .  .  .  like  a  man  of  respecta- 
bility ! 

Sahtin — Why  shouldn't  a  scoundrel  speak  like  a 
respectable  man,  when  the  respectable  people  talk 
so  much  like  scoundrels?  ...  I  have  forgot- 
ten much,  but  one  thing  I  still  keep.  The  old  man? 
He  had  a  shrewd  head  on  his  shoulders.  .  .  . 
He  worked  on  me  like  acid  on  an  old,  dirty  coin. 
To  his  health,  let  him  live!  Pour  one.  ... 
(Nastiah  pours  a  glass  of  beer  and  hands  it  to 
Saktin.  He  laughs.)  The  old  man — he  lived 
from  within.  .  .  .  He  saw  everything  with  his 
own  eyes.  ...  I  asked  him  once:  'Grandfath- 
er, why  do  men  really  live?'     .     .     .      {He  tries 


126  SUBMERGED 

in  voice  and  manner  to  imitate  LuKA.)  Man  lives 
ever  to  give  birth  to  strength.  There  live,  for  ex- 
ample, the  carpenters,  noisy,  miserable  people  .  .  . 
and  suddenly  in  their  midst  is  a  carpenter  born 
.  .  such  a  carpenter  as  the  world  has  never 
seen:  he  is  above  all,  no  other  carpenter  can  be 
compared  to  him.  He  gives  a  new  face  to  the  whole 
trade  ...  his  own  face,  so  to  speak  .  .  . 
and  with  that  simple  impulse  it  has  advanced  twenty 
years  .  .  .  and  so  the  others  live  .  .  .  the 
locksmiths  and  the  shoemakers,  and  all  the  rest  of 
the  working  people  .  .  .  and  the  contractors 
.  .  .  and  the  same  is  true  of  other  classes — all 
to  give  birth  to  strength.  Every  one  thinks  that  he 
for  himself  takes  up  room  in  the  world,  but  it  turns 
out  that  he  is  here  for  another's  benefit — for  some 
one  better  ...  a  hundred  years  ...  or 
perhaps  longer  ...  if  we  live  so  long  .  .  . 
for  the  sake  of  genius.  (Nastiah  stares  into  Sah- 
tin's  face.  Kleshtsch  stops  working  on  the  ac- 
cordeon  and  does  nothing.  The  Baron  lets  his 
head  sink  and  drums  with  his  fingers  on  the  table. 
The  Actor  sticks  his  head  over  the  edge  of  stove, 
and  carefully  crawls  down.  Sahtin  goes  on.)  All, 
my  children,  all,  live  only  to  give  birth  to  strength. 
For  that  reason  we  must  respect  everybody.  We 
cannot  know  who  he  is,  for  what  purpose  born,  or 
what   he   may   yet   fulfil     .     .     .     perhaps   he   has 


ACT  IV  127 

been  born  for  our  good  fortune  ...  or  great 
benefit  .  .  .  and  especially  must  we  respect  the 
children  .  .  .  the  little  children  .  .  . 
they  must  not  suffer  restraint  ...  let  them 
live  their  lives  ...  let  them  be  respected- 
{Laughs  quietly  to  himself.     Pause.) 

Baron — {Thoughtfully.)  For  the  genius.  .  .  . 
Hm,  yes  .  .  .  that  brings  to  mind  my  ow^n 
family  ...  an  old  family  .  .  .  back  to 
Catherine's  time  ...  of  the  nobility  .  .  . 
knights  .  .  .  we  came  from  France  . 
and  entered  the  Russian  service  .  .  .  dignities 
accumulated  on  us.  .  .  .  Under  Nicholas  I., 
my  grandfather,  Gustav  Deville  .  .  .  held  a 
high  post  ...  he  was  rich.  .  .  .  Had 
hundreds  of  serfs     .     .     .     horses     ...     a  cook. 

Nastiah — Don't  be  lying  .  .  .  it's  all  a 
fake.     .     .     . 

Baron — {Springing  up.)  Wh-at?  Nyah  .  .  . 
say  more! 

Nastiah — It's  all  a  fabrication. 

Baron — {Cries.)  A  house  in  Moscow,  a  house 
in  Petersburg!  Coaches  .  .  .  escutcheons  on 
the  coach  door.  (Kleshtsch  takes  the  accordeon 
and  goes  to  the  side  R.,  where  he  observes  the 
scene.) 

Nastiah — Never  was  such  a  thing. 


128  SUBMERGED 

Baron — Stop  chattering!  Dozens  of  footmen 
.     .     .     I  tell  you! 

N  ASTIAH —  ( Tantalizing. )     None. 

Baron — I'll  kill  you. 

Nastiah — There  were  no  coaches. 

Sahtin — Let  up,  Nastenka.  Don't  make  him 
so  furious. 

Baron — Wait  .  .  .  you  wench  .  .  .  my 
grandfather — 

Nastiah — You  had  no  grandfather  .  .  . 
none.     (Sahtin  laughs.) 

Baron — (Sinks  back  on  the  seat  quite  out  of 
breath  with  anger.)  Sahtin,  I  tell  you  .  .  . 
the  harlot  .  .  .  what — you  laugh,  too?  And 
you.  .  .  .  Won't  believe  me?  {Cries  out  des- 
perately, striking  the  table  with  his  fists.)  Go  to 
the  devil     ...     all  was  as  I  say. 

Nastiah — (In  a  triumphant  tone.)  Ah,  ha! 
See  how  you  bellow  out!  Now  you  know  how  a 
person  feels  when  nobody  believes  him. 

Kleshtsch — (Returns  to  table.)  I  thought  we 
should  have  a  fight. 

Tartar — Stupid    people     .     .     .     childish. 

Baron — I  .  .  .  I'll  not  be  made  a  fool  of. 
.  .  .  I  have  proof.  ...  I  have  documents 
to  satisfy. 

Sahtin — Throw  them  in  the  stove.  And  for- 
get your  grandfather's  coach.     In  the  coach  of  the 


ACT  IV  129 

past  nobody  gets  anywhere. 

Baron — How  can  she  dare.     .     .     , 

Nastiah — Hear  the  noise  he  is  making  .  .  . 
oh,  Lord,  how  dare  I? 

Sahtin — But  you  see,  she  dares  it.  Is  she  still 
worse  than  you?  For  she  has  certainly  had  in  her 
past  no  coach  and  no  grandfather  .  .  .  per- 
haps not  even  a  father  and  mother.     .     .     . 

Baron — {Quieting  himself.)  Go  to  the  devil. 
You  reason  everything  out  so  coldblooded- 
ly, while  I.     ...     I  believe  I  have  no  temper. 

Sahtin — Make  yourself  one.  It  is  a  useful 
thing.  .  .  .  {Pause.)  Tell  me,  Nastiah,  do 
you  not  go  often  to  the  hospital? 

Nastiah — What  for? 

Sahtin — To  Natasha? 

Nastiah — Why,  have  you  dropped  from  Heav- 
en? She  has  long  been  out  .  .  .  out  and  gone, 
.     .     .     Nowhere  is  she  to  be  found.     .     . 

Sahtin — Gone?    Disappeared? 

Kleshtsch — I  would  like  to  know  whether 
Waska  got  Wassilissa  into  trouble  or  Wassilissa, 
Waska. 

Nastiah — Wassilissa?  She  will  lie  herself  out. 
She  is  crafty.     She  will  send  Waska  to  the  mines. 

Sahtin — For  manslaughter  in  a  row,  only  im- 


I30  SUBMERGED 

prisonment.     .     .     . 

Nastiah — Shame.  Hard  labor  would  be  bet- 
ter. You  ought  to  be  sentenced  to  hard  labor  too. 
You  ought  to  be  swept  away  like  a  pile  of  trash 
.     .     .     into  a  ditch. 

Sahtin — {Taken  aback.)  What  are  you  talking 
about.     You  are  certainly  mad. 

Baron — I'll  box  your  ears  .  .  .  impertin- 
ent huzzy. 

Nastiah — Try  it  once,  just  touch  me! 

Baron — Certainly  I'll  try  it! 

Sahtin — Let  her  be.  Don't  touch  her.  Don't 
insult  any  one.  I  always  remember  the  old  man. 
{Laughs  aloud.)  Don't  insult  mankind,  not  in  her. 
.  .  .  And  if  I  should  be  insulted  so  that  my 
reputation  was  forever  gone.  .  .  .  What  should 
I  then  do.     .     .     .     Forgive.    No  and  never! 

Baron — {To  Nastiah.)  Mark  you!  you:  I  am 
not  one  of  your  kind    .     .     .    you    .     .     .    wench. 

Nastiah — Ah,  you  wretch!  You  .  .  .  you 
live  with  me  like  a  maggot  in  an  apple.  ( The  men 
laugh  understandingly.) 

Kleshtsch — Silly  goose!    A  fine  apple  you  are. 

•         •         • 

Baron — Shall  a  man  get  mad  .  .  .  over 
such     ...     an  idiot? 

Nastiah — You  laugh?    Don't  sham!    You  don't 


ACT  IV  131 

feel  like  laughing.     .     .     . 

Actor — {Darkly.)     Give  him  what  is  his. 

Nastiah — If  I  only  .  .  .  could:  I  would 
take  you  all  and.  .  .  .  {Takes  a  cup  from  the 
table  and  smashes  it  on  the  floor)  like  that! 

Tartar — What  are  you  breaking  the  dishes  for 
.     .     .     dunce? 

Baron — {Rising.)  No,  I  must  teach  her  man- 
ners. 

Nastiah — {Going  out.)     Go  to  the  devil. 

Sahtin— {Calls  after  her.)  Let  up,  will  you? 
Why  do  you  treat  her  so?    Will  you  frighten  her? 

Nastiah — You  wolves!  It  is  time  you  were 
dead.     {Ex.  L.  U.  E.) 

Actor —  ( Darkly. )     Amen ! 

Tartar — Ugh,  mad  folks  these  Russian  women! 
Hussies,  unmanageable.  The  Tartar  women  are 
not  so,  they  know  the  law. 

Kleshtsch — She  must  be  given  something  that 
she  will  remember. 

Baron — A  low-born  creature. 

Kleshtsch— {Tries  the  accordeon.)  Ready, 
and  your  owner  is  not  to  be  seen.  .  .  The  boy 
is  a  lively  one. 

Sahtin — Now  have  a  drink ! 

Kleshtsch — {Drinks.)  Thanks!  It  is  time  to 
be  turning  in.     .     .     . 

Sahtin— You'll   fall   in  with   our  habits  after 


132  SUBMERGED 

awhile,  eh? 

Kleshtsch — (Drinks  and  goes  to  the  bunk  in 
the  corner.)  If  I  do.  .  .  .  Everywhere,  in  the 
long  run,  people  are  to  be  found.  .  .  .  You  do 
not  see  them  at  first  .  .  .  but  later,  when  you 
see  truer,  people  are  to  be  found  everywhere  .  .  . 
and  they  are  not  so  bad  after  all.  .  .  .  {The 
Tartar  spreads  a  cloth  out  over  the  bunk,  sits 
doiun  and  prays.) 

Baron — (To  Sahtin,  pointing  to  the  Tartar.) 
Just  look. 

Sahtin — Let    him     alone.     .     .     .     He    is    a 
good  fellow.     .     .     .     Don't  disturb  him!  (Laughs 
aloud.)    I    am    so    chicken    hearted    today. 
The  devil  may  know  what's  coming. 

Baron — You  are  always  a  little  chicken  hearted 
when  3'^ou  have  some  spirits  in  you  .  .  .  and 
rational  then. 

Sahtin — When  I  am  drunk  everything  pleases 
me.  Hm — yes.  .  .  .  He  prays?  Very  beauti- 
ful of  him.  A  man  can  believe  or  not  believe 
.  ,  .  that  rests  with  him.  Man  is  free  .  .  . 
he  is  responsible  to  himself  for  everything:  for  his 
belief,  his  unbelief,  his  love,  his  wisdom.  Man  him- 
self bears  the  cost  of  all,  is  therefore — free.  .  .  . 
Man — that  is  the  truth!  But  what's  man?  Not 
you,  nor  I,  not  they — no,  but  you,  I,  old  Luka, 
Napoleon,  Mohammed     ...     all  in  one    .    .    . 


ACT  IV  133 

is  man.  (Draws  in  the  air  the  outline  of  a  man's 
form.)  Comprehend!  It  is — something  huge,  in- 
cluding all  beginnings  and  all  endings  ...  all 
is  in  man,  all  is  for  man.  Only  man  alone  exists — 
the  rest  is  the  work  of  his  hand  and  his  brow. 
M-an!  phenomenal.  How  loftily  it  sounds,  M-a-n! 
We  must  respect  man  ...  not  compassion 
degrade  him  not  with  pity  .  .  .  but  respect. 
Drink  we,  to  the  health  of  man,  baron.  How 
splendid  it  is  to  feel  yourself  a  man.  I  ...  I, 
a  former  convict,  a  murderer,  a  cheat  .  .  .  yes, 
when  I  pass  along  the  street,  the  people  stare  at 
me,  as  though  I  were  the  most  desperate  of  thieves 
.  .  .  they  get  out  of  my  way,  they  look  after 
me  .  .  .  and  often  say  to  me,  thief,  why  don't 
you  work?  .  .  .  Work?  What  for?  To  become  sati- 
ated. {Laughs  aloud.)  I  have  always  hated  those 
who  eat  themselves  to  death.  It  comes  to  noth- 
ing, baron,  to  nothing.  The  man  is  the  principal 
thing,  man  stands  higher  than  a  full  stomach.  {Rises 
from   his  place.) 

Baron — {Shakes  his  head.)  You  are  a  con- 
templator  .  .  .  that  is  wise  .  .  .  that 
warms  my  heart.  ...  I  can't  do  it.  {Looks 
around  carefully  and  continues  in  a  lower  tone.)  I 
am  sometimes  afraid,  brother  ...  do  you  un- 
derstand?    I  fear  what  may  come  next. 

Sahtin — {Goes  up  and  down.)    Nonsense,  what 


134  SUBMERGED 

shall   man   fear? 

Baron — As  far  back  as  I  can  remember,  it  al- 
ways seemed  to  me  as  though  a  fog  lay  on  my  brow. 
I  never  knew  very  well  just  what  was  the  matter, 
was  never  at  ease.  ...  I  felt  as  if  my  whole 
life  long  I  had  only  put  on  my  clothes  and  taken 
them  off  again  .  .  .  why?  No  idea!  I  stud- 
ied, ...  I  wore  the  uniform  of  an  institute 
for  the  nobility  .  .  .  but  what  I  have  learned, 
I  don't  know.  ...  I  married  .  .  .  put 
on  a  frock  coat,  then  a  night  gown  ...  se- 
lected a  detestable  wife — why?  I  don't  under- 
stand. ...  I  went  through  everything — and 
wore  a  shabby  gray  jacket  and  red-fuzzy  trowsers 
.  .  .  but  I  finally  went  to  the  dogs.  Hardly 
took  any  notice  of  it.  I  was  employed  at  the  Ka- 
meral  Court  .  .  .  had  a  uniform,  a  cap  with 
cockade.  ...  I  embezzled  government  money 
.  .  .  pulled  on  the  convict's  jacket  .  .  . 
then — what  I  have  on  now  .  .  .  and  all  .  .  . 
as  if  in  a  dream     .     .     .     funny,  eh? 

Sahtin — Not  very.  ...  I  find  it  rather 
foolish. 

Baron — ^Yes.  ...  I  think  it  was  foolish. 
..  .  But  I  must  have  been  born  for  something 
.     .     .     eh? 

Sahtin — (Laughs.)       It    is    possible 

Man  is  bom  to  give  birth  again  to  strength.    {Nods 


ACT  IV  135 

his  head.)     Yes     .     .     .     fine  idea. 

Baron — This.  .  ,  .  Natasjka.  .  .  .  Simp- 
ly ran  out.  ...  I  will  see  where  she  has  hid- 
den. .  .  .  Still,  she.  .  .  .  {Ex.  L.  U.  E. 
Pause. ) 

Actor — You  Tartar!  (Pause.)  Prince!  (The 
Tartar  turns  his  head.)     Pray  for  me. 

Tartar — What  do  you  want? 

Actor — (Softly.)  You  must  pray  ...  for 
me. 

Tartar — (After  a  short  silence.)  Pray  for 
yourself. 

Actor — (Climbs  quickly  down  from  the  stove, 
mounts  the  table,  pours  a  glass  of  whiskey  with 
trembling  hand,  drinks  and  goes  out  hastily,  almost 
running,  L.  U.  E.)      Now,  I  go! 

Sahtin — Heh,  you  Sigambrer!  Whereto?  (He 
whistles.  Medviedeff  in  a  wadded  zuoman's  jack- 
et, and  BuBNOFF,  enter  R.  U.  E.  BuBNOFF  car- 
ries in  one  hand  a  bundle  of  pretzels,  in  the  other 
a  couple  of  smoked  fish,  under  his  arm  a  bottle  of 
whiskey,  and  in  his  coat  pocket  a  second.) 

Medviedeff. — The  camel  is  ...  a  sort  of 
ass,  so  to  speak.     Only  it  has  no  ears. 

Bubnoff — Let  up!  You  yourself  ...  are 
a  sort  of  jackass, 

Medviedeff — The  camel  has  no  ears  at  all.  It 
hears  with  the  nostrils. 


136  SUBMERGED 

BuBNOFF — {To  Sahtin.)  Friend  of  my  heart, 
I  have  searched  for  you  in  every  barroom  and  dive. 
Take  the  bottle  out,  my  hands  are  full. 

Sahtin — Put  the  pretzels  on  the  table  and  then 
you  vi^ill  have  a  free  hand. 

BuBNOFF — That's  right  .  .  .  you  know  the 
law     .     .     .     you  have  a  sly  head.     .     .     . 

Medviedeff — All  scoundrels  have  sly  heads. 
.  .  .  I  know  that  .  .  .  long.  How  could 
they  catch  anything  without  slyness?  A  law-abid- 
ing citizen  can  be  stupid,  but  a  thief  must  have 
brains  in  his  head.  But  about  this  camel,  brother, 
you  are  wrong  there  ...  a  camel  is  a  sort 
of  riding  deer,  I  say  ...  it  has  no  horns 
and  no  teeth,  either. 

Bubnoff — Where's  the  whole  crowd  hiding?  No- 
body here.  Say,  you,  come  out.  ...  I  treat 
today     .     .     .     who  sits  there  in  the  corner? 

Sahtin — You  have  already  spent  almost  every- 
thing, scarecrow. 

Bubnoff — Of  course,  this  time  my  capital  was 
small  .  .  .  which  I  had  scraped  together. 
.     .     .     Krivoi  Zoba!       Where  is  Krivoi  Zoba? 

Kleshtsch — {Steps  to  the  table.)  He  is  not 
there. 

Bubnoff — U-u-rrr!  Bull  dog.  Brrju,  Brlyu, 
Brlyu,  turkey  cock!  Don't  be  barking  and  snarl- 
ing!   Drink,  fast,  don't  let  your  head  hang.     .     .    . 


ACT  IV  137 

I  invite  all,  freely.  I  love  to  do  that,  brother!  If 
I  was  a  rich  man,  I  vv^ould  have  a  barroom  in 
w^hich  everything  vv^ould  be  free,  by  God,  with  mu- 
sic and  a  choir  of  singers.  Come,  drink,  eat,  do 
you  hear,  quicken  your  souls.  Come  to  me,  poor 
men,  to  my  free  barroom,  Sahtin!  Brother!  I 
would  you  .  .  .  there,  take  half  my  entire  cap- 
ital, there  take  it. 

Sahtin — Oh,  give  it  all  to  me.     .     .     . 

BuBNOFF — All?  My  whole  capital?  Do  you 
want  it?  .  .  .  There!  A  ruble  .  .  . 
another  .  .  .  twenty  ...  a  couple  of  fiv- 
ers ...  a  pair  of  two  copec  pieces  .  .  . 
that  is  all ! 

Sahtin — Lovely  .  .  .  I'll  keep  it  safely. 
I'll  win  my  money  back  with  it. 

Medviedeff — I  am  a  witness  .  .  .  you  have 
given  him  the  money  in  trust  .  ,  .  how  much 
was  it,  though? 

BuBNOFF — You?  You  are — a  camel.  .  .  . 
We  need  no  witnesses. 

Alyoschka — {Enters  L.  U.  E.  with  bare  feet.) 
Children!     I  have  gotten  my  feet  wet! 

BuBNOFF — Come — get  your  gullet  wet  .  .  . 
to  balance  matters.  You're  a  lovely  boy,  you  sing 
and  make  music  .  .  .  very  clever  of  you !  But 
— drink  .  .  .  not  too  much!  Guzzling  is  very 
injurious,  brother     .     .     .     very  injurious.     .     .     . 


138  SUBMERGED 

Alyoschka — I  see  that  in  you  .  .  .  you 
only  look  like  a  man  after  you  have  gotten  drunk. 
Kleshtsch!  Is  my  accordeon  mended?  {Sings  and 
dances  with  it.) 

If  I  were  not  such  a  tasty  boy, 

So  lively,  fresh  and  neat, 
Then  Madam  Godfather  would 

Never  again  call  me  sweet. 

Frozen  stiflF,  children.     It  is  cold. 

Medviedeff — Hm — and  if  I  may  be  bold  enough 
to  ask:     Who  is  Madam  Godfather? 

BuBNOFF — You  .  .  .  are  not  interested  in 
that!  You  have  nothing  to  ask  here  now.  You 
are  no  policeman  any  more  .  .  .  that's  a  fact. 
Neither  police  nor  uncle.     .     .     . 

Alyoschka — But  simply,  auntie's  husband! 

BuBNOFF — Of  your  nieces,  one  sits  in  prison,  the 
other  is  dying.     .     .     . 

Medviedeff — {Expands  his  chest.)  That  is  not 
true:  She  is  not  dying.  She  has  simply  gone 
away!     (Sahtin  laughs  aloud.) 

BuBNOFF — Quite  true,  brother!  A  man  without 
nieces — is  no  uncle! 

Alyoschka — Your  excellency,  the  pensioned 
drum-major  of  the  belly  brigade. 


ACT  IV  139 

Nary  a  single  cent  have  I, 
While  Madam  Godfather  has  money, 
But  still  I'm  nice,  I'm  very  very  nice, 
I'm  as  nice  and  as  sweet  as  honey. 

Brr,  it  is  cold.  (Krivoi  Zoba  enters,  then,  until 
the  end  of  the  act  couples,  men  and  women,  enter, 
undress  themselves,  stretch  out  on  the  bunks  and 
grumble  to  themselves.) 

Krivoi  Zoba — Why  did  you  run  away,  Bubnoff? 

BuBNOFF — Come  here  and  sit  down.  Let's 
sing  something,  brother!     My  favorite  hymn,  eh? 

Tartar — It  is  night  now,  time  for  sleeping.  Sing 
during  the  day. 

Sahtin — Let  them  sing,  prince,  come  over  here. 

Tartar — Let  them  sing — and  then  a  row.  .  .  . 
You  sing  and  they  fight. 

Bubnoff — {Going  to  him.)  What's  the  matter 
with  your  hand,  prince.     Has  somebody  cut  it  off 

Tartar — Why  cut  it  off?  Let  us  wait.  .  .  . 
Perhaps  it  will  not  be  necessary  to  cut  it  off 
.  .  .  a  hand  is  not  made  of  iron  .  .  .  cut- 
ting off  is  an  easy  thing  to  do.     .     .     . 

Krivoi  Zoba — It  is  a  bad  job,  Hassanka !  What, 
are  you  without  a  hand?  In  our  business  they  only 
look  at  the  hands  and  the  back.  ...  A  man 
without  a  hand  is  no  man  at  all!  Might  as  well 
be  dead.     Come,  drink  a  glass  with  us. 


I40  SUBMERGED 

KvASHNYA — {Enters  L.  U.  E.)  Ah,  my  dear 
tenants.  Biting  cold  outside,  slush  •.  .  .  and 
raw.  ...  Is  my  policeman  there  ?  Heh,  there, 
Commissioner! 

Medviedeff — Here  I  am. 

KvASCHNYA — You  have  my  jacket  on  again? 
What  is  the  matter  with  you?  You  have  been  hav- 
ing a  bit,  eh?     That  don't  go. 

Medviedeff — Bubnoff  .  .  .  has  a  birthday 
.     .     .     and  it  is  so  cold,  such  slush.     .     .     . 

KvASCHNYA — I'll  teach  you  .  .  .  such  slush. 
.  .  .  But  don't  forget  the  rules  of  this  household 
.     .     .     go  to  bed.     .     .     . 

Medviedeff — (Ex.  R.  to  kitchen).  To  bed!  I 
can.     ...     I  will     .     .     .     it  is  time.      (Ex.) 

Sahtin — Why  are  you  ...  so  strict  with 
him? 

KvASCHNYA — There  is  nothing  else  to  do,  dear 
friend.  A  man  like  that  must  be  closely  reined.  I 
did  not  marry  him  for  fun.  He  is  military,  I 
thought  .  .  .  and  you  are  a  dangerous  lot. 
.  .  .  I,  a  woman,  would  be  no  match  for  you 
.  .  .  now  he's  beginning  to  souse — no,  my  boy, 
that  don't  go. 

Sahtin — You  made  a  bad  selection  in  your  as- 
sistant.    .     .     . 

KvASCHNYA — No,  wait — he  is  all  right  .  .  . 
you  will  not  get  me     .     .     .     and  if  you  did,  the 


ACT  IV  141 

honeymoon  would  not  last  over  a  week  .  .  . 
you'd  gamble  the  clothes  off  my  back. 

Sahtin — (Laughs.)  That's  no  lie,  I  would  lose 
you. 

KvASCHNYA — So,  then.     Alyoschka. 

Alyoschka — Here  he  is.     .     .     . 

KvASCHNYA — Tell  me,  what  gossip  have  you  been 
spreading  about  me? 

Alyoschka — I?  Everything!  I  tell  everything 
that  can  honestly  be  told.  What  a  woman!  say  I. 
Simply  an  astonishing  woman.  Flesh,  fat,  bones, 
over  three  hundred  weight,  and  brains,  not  half  a 
grain. 

KvASCHNYA — Nyah,  you  lie,  my  young  man,  I 
have  quantities  of  brain.  .  .  .  No — why  do  you 
tell  folks  that  I  beat  my  policeman? 

Alyoschka — I  thought,  because  you  tore  his  hair 
out     .     .     .     that  is  as  good  as  a  beating. 

KvASCHNYA — (Laughs.)  You  are  a  fool!  Why 
carry  such  dirt  out  of  the  house?  .  .  .  that 
has  grieved  him  sorely  ...  he  has  taken  to 
drink  from  worry  over  your  gossip.     .     .     . 

Alyoschka — Listen:  It  is  therefore  true,  what 
the  proverb  says:  that  the  hen  has  a  throat  for 
liquor.     (Sahtin  and  Kleschtsch  laugh.) 

KvASCHNYA — But  you  are  witty:  and  tell  me, 
what  sort  of  animal  you  are,  Alyoschka? 


142  SUBMERGED 

Alyoschka — I  am  a  fellow  who  fits  snugly  into 
the  world.  The  finest  of  the  finest  sort!  A  regu- 
lar jack  of  all  trades.  Where  my  eye  turns,  there 
my  heart  follows. 

BuBNOFF — {On  the  Tartar's  bunk.)  Come, 
we  will  not  let  you  sleep.  Today  we'll  sing  .  .  . 
the  whole  night,  eh,  Krivoi  Zoba? 

Krivoi  Zoba — May  we? 

Alyoschka — I'll  play  for  you.     .     .     . 

Sahtin — And  we  will  hear  it. 

Tartar — {Grunting.)  Nyah,  old  satan,  Bubna 
.  .  .  pour  me  a  glass:  'We'll  revel,  we'll  drink 
until  death  gives  the  wink.' 

BuBNOFF — Pour  him  one,  Sahtin!  Krivoi  Zoba, 
sit  down!  Ah,  brothers!  How  little  a  man  needs! 
I,  for  example,  I've  only  had  a  couple  of  swallows 
.  .  .  and  walk  tangled  footed.  Krivoi  Zoba, 
strike  up  .  .  .  my  favorite  song.  I  will  sing 
and  weep. 

Krivoi  Zoba — {Sings.)  'Though  still  the  sun 
goes  up  and  down.     .     .     .' 

BuBNOFF — {Falls  in.)  'No  gleam  can  pierce  to 
me  in  here.'     {The  door  is  jerked  open.) 

Baron — {On  the  platform,  crying.)  Heh,  there 
.  .  .  you !  Come  quick  .  .  .  come  out !  In 
the  yard  .  .  .  there  .  .  .  the  actor  .  .  . 
has  hanged  himself!  {Silence,  all  stare  at  the  Baron. 


ACT  IV  143 

Behind  him  appears  Nastiah  who  with  staring  eyes 
goes  to  the  table.) 

Sahtin — (Softly.)      He    must    spoil    our    song 
.     .     .     the  fool. 

Curtain 


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